


Little Talks

by LeafontheWinf2



Series: Of Monsters and Men [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, BAMF Jack Frost, Backstory, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Headless Horseman is Jack's bro, Jack...this isn't how you flirt..., Jsck is the Oldest North American Spirit, M/M, North American Pantheon, Papa North, Pitch Black is Bad at Relationships, Pitch and the other Dark Spirits are bros, Protective Jack, That's still around, eventually, light and dark, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3689070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafontheWinf2/pseuds/LeafontheWinf2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch Black retreated back to his lair after the Guardian's defeated him. Hurt and alone, he struggled to regain his powers to get revenge. Instead Pitch found himself being dragged out to meet the other North Amerian spirits by Jack Frost.</p><p>Turns out living in the United States means Pitch has to deal with the other spirits near him. And Frost. </p><p>Prequel to King and Lionheart, slow burn as Jack and Pitch fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, how Pitch and Jack got together. This will be a slow update that goes along with King and Lionheart. I hope you enjoy how these two dorks manage. 
> 
> And yes. I named the Headless Horseman Isaiah.

Chapter 1

There was the scent of fear in the air that drew Pitch from his lair. It had been years since he was defeated by the Guardian's and he was still far too weak for comfort. The Nightmares still ran wild across the world but slowly Pitch was managing to regain control. Which was why he needed the fear, it gave him strength again.

And this fear was potent enough to give Pitch enough strength to wrangle the rest of the herd in his lair.

The air was cool with the first hints of autumn when Pitch emerged. Heavy clouds blocked the moon so he didn't have to deal with that meddler watching his every move now from above. Red and gold leaves fluttered around him as Pitch moved down the forest path searching out the source of the fear. Normally he had to travel to the person who was afraid, but not this time. This time the fear was coming towards him rather quickly. How strange. 

The answer to the question was answered when two teenagers came sprinting around the bend of the road. Tears were apparent on their faces as they ran, panting for terrified breath as they scrambled on the dirt. Oh, their fear was delicious. It would be so easy to bask in the sharp taste of whatever had the children so terrified. And there were no pesky Guardian's to ruin it. 

"Pitch!"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

With an annoyed huff Pitch turned to see the newst Guardian flying towards him. Jack Frost had a determined expression on his face as he went hurtling across the road. Pitch opened his mouth to try and explain, Frost seemed to be the most reasonable of the Guardians the only time they had met. 

But all thoughts of explanation went out the window when the young spirit slammed bodily into Pitch's stomach. The force sent the pair flying off of the path and into the leafy underbrush with a pained groan. The smell of fallen leaves filled Pitch's nose mixing with Frost's scent of pine and mint as they lay there in a tangled pile of limbs and staff. 

A furious snarl left the Nightmare King as awareness returned to him. "Frost," he hissed before all the wind was knocked out of him as a bony knee pressed into his stomach. For a second Pitch thought it was ridiculous attack, but in actuality it was just Frost jumping back to his feet just as a horse went thundering past. 

Wait. What? 

No one rode on horseback anymore. They hadn't for over a century. But sure enough Pitch could see the rider hurtling down the road as he scrambled back onto his feet. 

"Damnit Isiah!" Jack yelled floating up into the air and waving his staff at the rider, "Watch where you're going! People are walking here!"

A mad cackle left the rider as he sent a rude gesture towards Frost before rounding the bend of the road in pursuit of the teenager. Frost did not look amused as he returned to the ground, a glare on his face as he turned to regard Pitch with icy eyes. "What were you doing?" Frost hissed and there went Pitch's hope that this Guardian was reasonable.

It was easy to draw on his height to tower over the small spirit. Adding the shadows to his glare was just another trick to hopefully throw Frost off for the time being. "I sensed fear Frost came to see what caused it," Pitch spat the name as if it physically hurt him to say, "It may have escaped your notice but I happen to be a being of fear..."

"What? No, I don't care that you came up here to scare some kids," Frost snapped ice curling around them, "I mean about just standing there in the middle of Isaiah's way like an idiot!"

What? 

The glare on Frost's face disappeared only to be replaced with a look of concern. Pitch could feel the winter being's fears grow, but they weren't fear of Pitch. They were fears for Pitch. "He didn't hurt you did he?" Frost asked softly worriedly fluttering in front of Pitch, "He doesn't stop when he's hunting and I know he could have seriously hurt you. So are you alright?"

"I...yes?" Pitch had no idea what was going on here. First Frost tackled him out of the way of a deranged horseman, and now he was worried about him? It would have been better to just stay in his lair instead of dealing with this insanity, "What was that?" 

"The Headless Horseman is on the hunt," Frost said lighting back onto the ground, "That's why you need to be careful. He doesn't exactly notice when he's about to hurt someone when he gets like this." 

"I see," he really didn't. But it was easier to pretend he did, "Thank you for the warning Frost. I'll be sure to avoid him."

"Only when he's hunting. The rest of the time Isaiah is really nice. In fact I'm pretty sure he'll want to apologize tomorrow," Frost murmured fluttering back into the air, "Do you mind if I bring him to your lair so he can?" 

"What?"

"It's in the same place as last time? Wonderful! See you tomorrow night!" And with that Frost went flitting away on the breeze leaving Pitch standing there not entirely sure what had just happened. It was so easy to slip back into his lair and try to forget the rather confusing night. But Frost just wouldn't let him. Because sure enough the minute the sun went down Frost appeared outside of his lair with someone beside him. 

With a heavy sigh Pitch emerged from his lair before fixing Frost with an unamused look. "Why are you here?" Pitch demanded.

"Ah that would be my fault," the spirit next to Forst said sheepishly before holding out a hand, "Isaiah Beckert, known better here as the Headless Horseman."

Pitch reached out and shook the offered hand studying the other spirit. He was dressed in an all black uniform from the Revolutionary War with a jack-o-lantern sitting where his head should be. "Pitch Black," was all he could say. His attention was on Frost who was happily perched on his staff watching them with a wide grin. It was strange to have an enemy like a Guardian so close by without any signs of violence. 

"I'd just like to apologize Mr. Black," the Horseman said catching Pitch's attention and how could a carved pumpkin look sad? "For nearly running you over last night when I was hunting. Jackie here said you were just out doing your job."

"That's all he said?" There was no way Frost had just said that. The Horseman was one of Frost's allies so it would be easy for the Guardian to turn him against Pitch.

"That's all we care about," Frost apparently decided to join the conversation hopping off his staff to join Pitch and the Horseman. A small smile was apparent in his face as he approached the Boogeyman. "The only time you're going to run into a problem here Pitch is if you mess with another spirit's job," Frost explained leaning against the Horseman. Frost spread up and over the black uniform as the pumpkin turned to give Frost a fond look.

Pitch sneered, "That doesn't explain you allying with the Guardian's against me then." 

Frost did not look amused. "You weren't doing your job you were trying to take over the world," Frost said dryly before a smile reappeared, "If you avoid doing that, we shouldn't have any problems Pitch." With that Frost launched himself into the air and was dragged away by the breeze leaving the two dark spirits behind. 

The Horseman sent Pitch a reassuring smile (again, pumpkin. How?) at the obvious confusion showing from that brief conversation. "Sorry about Jackie-boy, he's a bit much at first," the Horseman explained with an easy going shrug, "He's huge on the whole balance thing, got taken in by the Native American spirits back when he first appeared. But if you plan on sticking to this hemisphere, he'll be a good way to meet other dark spirits without stepping on any toes."

"There are more dark spirits here?" Pitch had never heard of any, that was for sure.

"Oh tons," the Horseman said with a grin, "You've got Slenderman, Hookman, Jersey Devil, and don't even get me started on Dahlia Blue-Ribbon. No doubt Jackie'll drag you to meet them all within the next century."

"I doubt it," Pitch said dryly. Frost was a Guardian now, he would want nothing to do with the enemy of all the precious ideals he held dear. Pitch doubted they would ever meet on friendly terms again.  
The Horseman let out an amused laugh at that. "Oh no, Jackie'll be back soon. Mark my words, he's decided to make you his new friend. And once he decides that, nothing will change his mind," the Horseman explained turning to leave the clearing with a backwards wave, laughter clear in his voice, "We'll be praying for you Pitch Black! You'll need it!"

So he was destined to be Jack Frost's newest distraction? How disturbing. Pitch couldn't think of a worse fate to befall on him as he slid through the shadows back into his lair. Sitting in his trine Pitch had to wonder. If seeing Frost was so disgusting, why was he smiling at the thought of the Guardian of Fun coming by again?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it ism the second chapter of the story. Sorry it took so long but I wanted to get it perfect. Pitch was being so obnoxious to deal with.

For some reason Frost just wouldn't stay away. Every evening Pitch would feel the cold air drift through his lair as Frost came inside. And of course once the young spirit appeared he would quickly track down Pitch through the shadows. Pitch swore somehow Frost was getting the Nightmares to lead him around but couldn't prove anything. Once he'd find Pitch, Frost would settle in for the night happily chattering away about anything and everything.

And just like the Horseman warned, Frost had dragged him out to meet several other spirits that lived in North America. Pitch had been surprised to notice so many dark spirits who lived in the lands and even more amazed at how excited they were to meet THE Boogeyman. Frost's lack of fear was beginning to make sense to Pitch. The boy lived with creatures of the night as his only forms of communication so it didn't make him so uncomfortable. 

"You need more friends," Frost announced one day fluttering over to Pitch's side. 

Pitch simply huffed and attempted to ignore the boy who had somehow found his way back into Pitch's lair. "What are you doing here?" Pitch demanded, glaring solemnly at the boy from the shadows, "Don't you have Guardian business to take care of? Like spreading fun to the disgusting snot nosed brats of the world?"

"Of course not. It's the middle of summer. My job's done for the year," Frost said happily fluttering closer to Pitch, "So I get to spend all my time hanging out with you now."

"Oh the horror," Pitch drawled turning on his heel in at attempt to ignore Frost. It didn't work well, seeing how the winter spirit could fly. "Don't you have the Horseman to bother?" Pitch was not pouting, no matter what Frost's delighted grin said.

"I already saw Isaiah today," Frost touched down on the floor lightly, frost spreading out from under his feet in delicate spirals. "He's chasing a bunch of Girl Scouts who were camping tonight, so I won't see him until tomorrow." That explained why the youngest Guardian was here then. Without his friend, he was making do with Pitch. 

Sneering, Pitch dropped gracefully into his throne. "You must be truly desperate to hang around here then," he spat at the boy, "Without your precious friend, you come slinking back here like a beaten dog looking for attention. Did the Guardian's not work out the way you planned? Do they not give you the attention you wished for?" 

Frost didn't say anything to that. Big blue eyes just stared at Pitch as he leaned against his staff. It was infuriating how this little brat was digging under his skin without even trying. How was Pitch supposed to do his job with the threat of Frost's visits hanging over his head!

"Are you so desperate that you would come here again and again!" Why wasn't Frost saying anything? Why wouldn't he just answer Pitch's questions before going on his way? "Well? Why are you here!" 

No answer came to him. Frost's silence, usually something Pitch hoped for, was driving him insane now. 

"Is it from pity? Or some attempt by the Guardian's to keep me under control? Tell me!"

The lair was uncomfortably quiet as the last echo of his yell disappeared into the air. Pitch didn't know when he'd gotten to his feet, just that he was towering over Frost with his shadows behind him. Is harsh breathing was the only thing that sounded in the lair, rasping through the cold air as burning yellow eyes glared down at Frost. 

A slow smile spread across Frost's face, delicate traces of his frost spreading over his cheeks. "I told you earlier," he said sincerely, "I'm here because you need more friends. And I've decided to be your first."

Pitch turned away from the irritating spirit, chest heaving as he struggled to regain control. "I don't need friends," Pitch whispered. He couldn't look at the boy. Couldn't stand to stare into Frost's open and smiling face. He'd break into a thousand pieces if he did. 

The feel of small cold hands grabbing his wrist was almost painful. Pitch refused to turn, not matter how Frost tugged on his wrist. It didn't matter that he was acting like a child. Pitch refused to give into the brat.

"You may not need friend's, but that doesn't matter to me," Frost whispered and it was that that made Pitch turn. It felt like a punch to the gut when he stared at Frost's gentle and sincere eyes, "I've decided to be your friend Pitch. And nothing you say will convince me otherwise."

Then the child darted forward. Pitch flinched, expecting an attack. But no attack came, instead deceptively frail arms wrapped around his waist as Frost rested his cheek on Pitch's breastbone. His own long arms waved helplessly in the air as he stared at Frost's head. "What are you doing?" Pitch demanded trying to squirm out of Frost's hold. 

"I'm hugging you," Frost said happily, "Just shut up and take it."

After a while, Pitch reached down and wrapped his own arms around Jack, tugging the frost sprite close into the hug. It was...surprisingly nice. Pitch wasn't sure what to feel about it though. After a while he pulled back, and this time Frost let him go.

Turning away from those knowing blue eyes, Pitch focused on his shadows. "And just who did you plan on making me be friend's with besides yourself?"

"How do you feel about the Slenderman?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My head cannon is Slendeman is Pitc's best friend (besis Jack). The idea of the two of them being adorable doors was too percious to pass up, and I hope you enjoy them. I will be writing a chapter where they hand out soon. 
> 
> It will probably be split into two parts: 1-Pitch and Slenderman, 2-Jack and Isaiah.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long. It's midterm time here at college and they are kicking my butt. I wanted to give you guys more sadness before the hilarity of Pitch and Jack's awkward courtship took place. 
> 
> This story will not stay serious for long. Just another couple of chapters.

Pitch refused to admit it, but he enjoyed Frost's visits. The Guardian of Fun was a worthwhile companion to have in the dark of night. It was amazing what a patch of ice or a prickle of cold wind could do to create fear in others. Added with Pitch's shadows. , the pair was quickly creating a strong belief base for the Nightmare King. The more time spent with each other, the more questions rose for Pitch. 

"I'm surprised you're so strong with so few believers," he said one day after watching Frost play with children in the snow. It was true though, a Guardian's strength was tied to their belief base. And Frost had been able to defeat him without any believers at all.

Frost did not take offense from the question. He just smiled at Pitch and drifted over to stand next to the Nightmare King as the sun began to set. "I have a strong base of believers you know," Jack said softly, a sad smile on his face, "They're just not where you'd expect them to be."

"Where are they then?" Pitch asked truly curious. Stories of Jack Frost were spreading shadows across the world and Frost had mentioned a while ago the Guardian's feared his fading. 

"Oh, I have various names but they're all me," Jack explained, nudging Pitch with his staff, "The Navajo call me a trickster, the Seneca part of the wind, and the Inuit say I bring snow. All of the tribes have a story about me somewhere."

Ah, yes. The Horseman had said Frost had been taken in by the native spirits. It would make sense that they would know about Frost, just as the people in the Kingdom of Dreams knew the Nightmare King. Still, it was nice to know Frost would not be fading away on Pitch anytime soon. And if he refused to look closely at why that was so reassuring. 

It was after several months that Pitch realized there was something wrong with that though. No matter where he looked, he never encountered any of the native spirits. Sure, he'd run into Johnny Appleseed (the little pest) and the ones Frost referred to as the the patriotic spirits. But he'd never met any of the others.

The situation was brought up one day when Frost had come to visit him in the lair. And not even by Pitch, but instead by Frost himself. The boy was stretched out over Pitch's throne like a content cat while Pitch tended to his new Nightmare herd. He wasn't sure how to feel about the Guardian being so comfortable with the herd though.

"Those are beautiful horses," Frost said happily, sending a shy smile to Pitch. 

Pitch turned back to the boy with a put upon sigh. But his annoyance quickly turned to surprise when he realized Jack actually meant the compliment. "They are. One of the best herd's I've had yet," Pitch admitted, "I wasn't aware you knew about horses Frost." 

"Uncle Coyote taught me about them," Frost said simply with a happy shrug. "He always liked them you know. Stole a whole herd from the Spaniards and let them loose in the desert. Or at least he said he did. You could never really trust him." 

"I wasn't aware you had an uncle." Which was a lie. The Horseman had made it clear Jack once had a family with the spirits. 

Frost smiled sadly back at him. "I had lots of uncles and aunt as back then. They took care of me when my adopted mother couldn't look after me," Frost explained gently, "It's been a long time since I saw him last." 

Pitch could feel a thrum of blue fear in Frost. It was a soft, pale color that signified it was a long lasting fear that Frost had grown used to. The fear was about someone going away and never coming back. Probably the native spirits who had taken Frost in. "Where did they go?" He asked fixing Frost with a searching look. 

Frost just shrugged. "I don't know. They just went away one day and I couldn't go with them," Frost shouldn't look so sad. Pitch didn't want to keep seeing the broken look on the child's face. "Turns out I couldn't go with them because of the whole Guardian thing. The Moon was what kept me from going after them all." 

"He does things like that," Pitch said neutrally. Personally, he was done with the Man in the Moon's meddling. And luckily Frost seemed done with it as well. "Rather obnoxious of him if you ask me," Pitch murmured coming over to stand next to Frost, "Leaving you alone for three hundred years and then taking you for your family. Even I'm not that cruel Jack." 

The idiotic boy froze, blue eyes widening as a delighted smile crept across his face. It was a beautiful thing, such as when moonlight hits ice and makes it sparkle. Pitch refused to examine why he was so moved by it. "Why are you smiling?"

"Did you know," Jack said conversationally, "That's the first time you've called me by my first name?"

Pitch blinked slowly before a thoughtful frown spread across his face. So it was. How strange. He hadn't even noticed Frost becoming Jack. Pitch didn't know how the boy had grown so close to him, just like he wasn't sure how to push Jack away without hurting the child.

Looked like he was stuck with the baby Guardian then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god Pitch, you terrible dork. This is why you aren't allowed to have friends. Look how long it takes him to call Jack by his first name. And look how happy Jack is about it.
> 
> My headcannon is Jack was adopted by the Native A,erl an spirits before he became a guardian. But then something bad happened to them so he's still been alone for a very long time.
> 
> And I am working on Pitch and Slenderman having tea. I just keep laughing too hard to actually write it...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basic summary: Jack makes Pitch happy, Pitch freaks out and hurts Jack's feelings. Jack runs away, they both mope and the Headless Horseman fixes the issue. 
> 
> ... I felt wrong writing that the Headless Horseman fixes things. He shouldn't be trusted to handle anything.

Pitch was changing, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it. And it was all Jack Frost's fault.

The sight of the winter sprite's smile caused unfamiliar warmth to spread through his chest and Jack's laugh made Pitch smile. The smile on the Nightmare King's face was uncontrolled. No matter how ridiculous Jack was, Pitch couldn't help but smile gently at the child. Even better was the music of that soft laughter in the dark of Pitch's lair. Oh, how he came to miss the wild cackles as Jack darted around the place on the wind. It was strange, but a good strange that Pitch was slowly beginning to embrace. 

That should have been the first sign that there was something wrong coming. Nothing good ever lasted once Pitch had seen it. And there was no doubt in his mind that Jack Frost was good. It started on one of the evenings when Jack had been visiting him, the pair seated in the dark lair. Jack was lounging on a plush couch in the library, feet waving absently in the air as he rested his head in Pitch's lap while the Nightmare King read a book. 

The story was engrossing, to the point where Pitch didn't even notice when Jack swung off of his lap and disappeared into the lair. The Nightmares were used to Jack now, so they wouldn't turn on the boy when he was exploring. It wasn't until Jack returned that Pitch realized something was wrong. 

Golden eyes raised from the book to land on Jack. More importantly, Pitch was staring at what Jack was holding in his hands. A small golden locket was startlingly gold against Jack's pale hands. "Where did you find that?" Pitch hissed, raising up to tower over Jack.

Jack just stared back at Pitch, his eyes wide by the sudden display of aggression. He was unable to say anything, he just stared back at Pitch with those icy eyes.

"What did you plan on doing with that? Take it back to your precious Guardian's and use it against me? The only thing I have left?" Pitch wasn't aware that he was yelling, screaming really. All he cared about was that locket in Jack's hands. Honestly, the next half hour passed in a red hued haze of pure rage directed at Jack. It ended with a Pitch coming back to himself seated on the couch, curled around the locket. His eyes burned as if he had been crying for quite some time. It was just him and the Nightmares now. 

Jack was gone. He'd run the bright boy off, tarnishing the one good thing in his life. 

The days passed slowly without Jack there. Creating Nightmares for children held no joy without the exasperated huff from the Guardian when Pitch shared the events. His lair seemed darker without the delicate frost ferns decorating everything around them. It was two months since the disastrous meeting that everything finally came to a head.

It was Halloween and Pitch was out terrorizing the children. The one day of the year when they all wanted to be terrified by their own shadows, and who was Pitch to refuse them? He enjoyed it greatly, and his Nightmares grew fat as they raced from child to child. This was also the time of year Potch saw most of the New World spirits out working. He'd greeted La Muerte and Xibalba in Mexico City and redirected Slender Man in Detroit. Now, Pitch was heading up north towards New York to work his powers. 

"Ah Pitch!" The Nightmare King paused, turning to the spirit waving happily at him. Isaiah, the Headless Horseman, tipped his lantern head to Pitch. The large black horse came trotting up to the Nightmare King's side, it's glowing red eyes glowing in the gloom. "I hope you are having a fine Halloween," Isaiah said pleasantly as they moved through the shadows together. 

"It is...enjoyable," Pitch murmured. He missed the cold air following after him as he scared others. 

Those carved eyes seemed to know something, which was surprising seeing how it was a pumpkin. "You and Jack have had a disagreement, haven't you?" Isaiah asked him kindly before laughing at Pitch's shock, "Don't look so surprised! The pair of you were inseparable just a few months ago, and then suddenly you both stopped hanging around each other."

Pitch turned away from Isaiah's knowing look. "Jack found something very precious to me," Pitch admitted quietly, "And I...may have overreacted and chased him off."

Isaiah's hum was commiserating. "It's not as big a deal as you think," he waved his gloved hand at Pitch's stunned expression, "No, hear me out. Every spirit has a thing that they'd kill to protect, even Jack. Hells bells, the blizzard of '68 was Jack protecting his thing from some European summer sprites. I'm sure if you just apologize, Jackie will forgive you." Isaiah winked, which shouldn't be possible. "After all, neighbors should get along."

"I don't even have an idea where to begin looking," it was true. Jacm had always come to Pitch first. 

Isaiah grinned, "He's in Yellowstone right now. Now if you will excuse me, there are some children in need of scaring." Pitch snorted as Isaiah let out a mad cackle and kicked his horse into a gallop. The terrified shrieks of children were music to Pitch's ears as he faded into the shadows. It was simple enough to find Yellowstone for Pitch. Since he had been welcomed in the North American pantheon, he'd learned quickly that certain places held special importance to the other spirits. Yellowstone was one such area, a meeting area where the spirits would gather. 

Stepping out from the shadows into a grassy clearing, Pitch paused. He could see Jack sitting in front of him, the boy's back to him. The crunch of dead leaves filled the air as Pitch cautiously approached Jack. The young Guardian didn't look up when Pitch sat next to him on the yellowing autumn grass. Icy blue eyes were locked onto the crumbled ruins of what Pitch guessed was an indigenous building. It felt awkward to be just sitting here quietly with Jack. Pitch was used to Jack's constant chatter, which made this feel so wrong.

Not to mention he wasn't pleased with being forced to apologize. 

But Jack broke the silence first. "How did you find me?" he asked hollowly.

"Isaiah," Pitch willingly sold out the Horseman. 

"I'm going to his ice his stupid pumpkin head," Jack hissed before letting out a mournful sigh. "I'm sorry for touching the locket," he whispered, breath puffing in the cool air, "I didn't know...I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't," Pitch murmured, reaching out to gently take Jack's hand in his. It hurt a little that once again Jack had been the one to reach out and fix their relationship. Just once Pitch would like the lead into the next step, to show Jack how dear the wild frost child had become to him. "And I...am sorry as well for overreacting."

Pitch shut down the joy he felt when Jack turned to him for the first since they'd sat together. "You call that overreacting?" Jack demanded, the hint of a smile appearing on his face.

Pitch glared at the boy. "Seeing how I chased you off. Yes."

Jack's delighted laughter rang through the clearing, echoing off of the forest before disappearing into the sky. "That was not overreacting Pitch," Jack teased teased gently, nudging Pitch's shoulder with his own, "When someone overreacts, we tend to try and murder the other. Now that I think about it, the last one was Rosie back in '45..." Jack trailed off, lost in his memories before Pitch dragged him out. 

"I can't see you trying to kill another spirit," Pitch murmured, struggling to keep his face passive as Jack leaned into his side.

"Oh I did once," Jack whispered, "Back in 1839."

Well, that was different. Pitch hadn't expected there to be a cruel bone in Jack's body. But he should have know better. He had fought the child after all, and lost badly. With a huff, Pitch reached out to wrap his shadows around Jack's shoulder. He still couldn't bring himself to hold the boy with his own arms but this was good enough. 

But judging by the sweet smile Jack sent him, the Guardian didn't care about that. He was just happy to be besides Pitch again. That sent a foreign bolt of warmth through Pitch, as an involuntary smile spread across his own face in response. Together, they rested in Yellowstone, cold and dark together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always bothers me when Pitch gets angry over the locket and everyone acts like he's overreacting. It's his one link t his daughter, it is not an overreaction. It is a justifiable response. 
> 
> Jack and the others in the U.S. get it. Every horror story I've heard in the U.S. has the thing you do not touch or you die. So yeah, Jack gets upset he made Pitch yelled but he's not scared. Overreacting is massive death here.
> 
> For those wondering, 1839 was the start of the Trail of Tears. I'll be expanding on that mpre later.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pitch tells Jack his backstory. All the angst. But if you get to the end, he makes a wonderful discovery about feelings. 
> 
> Yes! Pitch manages to have feelings without needing to be guided. The massive dork.

A year after meeting Jack, Pitch had settled down on a snow covered log with Jack curled up against his side. The Nightmare King had been debating telling Jack the truth about himself for a while. He wasn't sure if Jack would still want him once he'd learned about his failure. How could someone as bright as Jack Frost want to be tarnished by the darkness of Pitch Black?

"Hey," Jack whispered, gently holding Pitch's hand in his own, "You know you can tell me anything. It'll take a lot more than a simple story to chase me off."

Pitch smiled down at the child before taking a deep breath, "It began long before your world was born. Back when I went by a different name..."

Kozmotis Pitchner was the Golden General of the great Imperial Army. He had commanded all sorts of troops from beyond the stars to protect the delicate balance of the worlds. General Pitchner had been a great man, one who treated the Dream Pirates he fought against with dignity and honor. The great hero of the age, well loved by the people who lived across the stars.

Everything had been going well for the shining General when he had been pushed into marriage by the Tsar. Sure, he had not loved his wife in a romantic sense, but they had come to be good friends. For a marriage such as theirs, it had been more the Pitchner could ask for. And his life had become even better the moment his wife had announced that she was pregnant.

"My precious Seraphina," Pitch murmured, unable to look at Jack, "She was the light of my life back then..."

His darling little girl had been bright, full of life. Every time Kozmotis had returned home he would find his darling girl playing in the gardens. Seraphina would go skipping up to him, taking his hand in her's before dragging him into the garden to play. There had been hours spent between father and daughter among the shining flowers that gave Kozmotis the strength to go on in his fight.

He swore to rid their universe to Dream Pirates and Fearlings so his daughter would grow up safe and happy. It kept him away for months at a time which made the days he spent with Seraphina even more precious. To remember his daughter, Kozmotis had kept a picture of her in a golden locket which he wore about his neck always.

That was what made what happened next so much worse.

A group of Fearlings had attacked the house of the Golden General. By the time Kozmotis got there, his home had been destroyed. The gardens were left in great tatters, the lunar flowers blackened and dead around them. His house had been burned away, and even worse were the two blackened bodies left in behind by the fire. The grief had very nearly destroyed Kozmotis, and he had only been able to go on once he swore to rid the world of the monsters that had taken his family from him.

He fought for years, battling his way across the stars. He couldn't remember the number of planets he visited when it came to his revenge, he simply continued until all of the creatures were gone. The ones that survived were placed into a great inescapable prison at the edge of the cosmos. It was so far out of the way that they would never cause harm to the planets closest to the prison.

Kozmotis volunteered to guard the prison. After all, he had nothing else left in his life. The Tsar and Tsarina agreed readily with him, for why should they doubt the great hero of the Fearlings War? So he boarded his ship and was sent off the prison planet to spend the rest of his days.

It worked for many years. Kozmotis was able to survive there by looking at the small golden locket of his daughter that he carried everywhere with him. He made sure to look only rarely so the Fearlings didn't use her against him. But one day, he lingered too long when he looked on the picture and the Fearlings turned his daughter's image against him.

For two year Kozmotis managed to survive listening to the Fearlings pleading in his daughter's voice for him to save her from the monsters. When that didn't work they made it sound as if they were torturing the poor child. Not even the Golden General was able to last against the onslaught of mental torture.

He ran through to the prison gates, desperate to save his daughter. With the last of his strength, he threw open the prison doors and released the inmates of the prison. The last clear memory Kozmotis had was of the darkness overwhelming him and the Fearlings mad laughter.

"All I remember after were glimpses of the carnage," Pitch admitted, an arm wrapped around Jack's shoulders. The young sprite had buried his face in Pitch's shoulder earlier and refused to let go. "Scenes of worlds burning and people fleeing before my eyes. Bodies strewn about as far as the eye could see. The Fearlings would only allow me to surface when they knew whatever they showed would hurt me most."

Pitch shut his eyes, focusing only on Jack's weight in his arms. The big was really far too skinny, barely weighing anything curled up against Pitch's side. "It changed when I landed on Earth," Pitch admitted, absentmindedly running a hand through Jack's hair, "There was something about humanity that weakened the Fearlings. They lost the ability to destroy worlds and became simple children's nightmares. And as they weakened, I was able to gain more strength."

Jack shifted a little. "When did you retake control?" He asked softly.

Pitch's hand froze, fingers buried in Jack's hair. He took in a shuddering breath before finding the strength to answer. "In Antarctica," Pitch murmured, golden eyes distant, "When I asked you to join me." He could feel Jack stiffen in his arms at the announcement.  
"When op you offered to make people believe in me," Jack whispered, turning in Pitch's arms to stare mournfully up at the older spirit.

Something deep inside of Pitch stung at the sight of tears in the corners of Jack's eyes. "Don't feel too badly, I wasn't in complete control. No doubt if you had assisted me, I would have harmed you terribly. It was only once I escaped the Nightmares that I was fully myself again," Pitch admitted dryly, smirking when a tentative smile appeared on Jack's face. "And then of course, you're friend nearly trampled me to death."

Helpless laughter tumbled from Jack, his eyes shining with mirth as he gazed up at Pitch. "He did apologize for that," Jack teased, practically sitting in Pitch's lap. Pitch was quite sure Jack hadn't realized the position they were in, just in case it caused Jack to move away.

"He did apologize, but I doubt he meant it," Pitch said instead, making sure to keep his tone dry so Jack didn't think he was serious. And judging for Jack's good natured eyeroll, he'd succeeded.

Eventually the sprite slumped gracelessly against Pitch's side, head pillowed on Pitch's shoulder. It was easy to summon a blanket of darkness to cover them both. How beautiful Jack looked, draped in shadows while snowflakes fell lazily from the sky. Pitch wished he could stop time right now, keep this moment forever. When Jack was curled up against him, so trusting and gentle. Because one day Jack would turn away from him, and Pitch would be left alone with just these memories to keep him company.

 _Let me keep him a little longer,_ Pitch prayed gently pulling Jack closer _, Just...let him stay with me for one more day..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's figured it out! Pitch figured out he's in love! We're halfway there! Maybe. Jack's bad at feelings too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...oh my god. I am so sorry for this. Pitch meets the Guardian's with the other spirits. It's...I can't even believe I wrote this. Poor Pitch is just trying to live his life when all this goes down and I never thought I would write that sentence. 
> 
> Also, I'm working on the Slenderman tea party thing but it is so much harder to write. I'll do it a bit later. 
> 
> Another notice: I'm planning on drawing this mad group but don't know where to do it. You can recommend any holiday celebration or even a location. Just give me a heads up and I will start it.

Pitch knew Jack worried about when the Guardian's would learn about their friendship. He'd felt the boy's fears on the issue several times when they had been together. Pitch had spent several visits reassuring Jack that nothing bad was going to happen when worrying about the same thing. But it was more important to Pitch that Jack remain happy and content rather than worrying about the Guardian's.

Which of course meant Pitch was doomed to deal with the Guardian's in the relative near future.

It happened on a cool fall evening, similar to the one where Jack and Pitch had bonded over early being run over by Isaiah so long ago. Pitch had been put spreading nightmares to the children sleeping in their beds. Oh, their fear was delicious. There was one child who delighted in terrifying dreams who Pitch always made sure to visit. With a little maturing, this child could grow up to be a horror novelist or something.

Rosie frequented New York and she had waved at Pitch before darting off to do...whatever it was she actually did. Jack had never had a real answer for him, always just mentioning Rosie would usually be found with Sam.

With a delighted hum Pitch watched his herd moving through the apartments. It was the perfect night really, no moon staring down at him. Judging with it's stupid face....

Searing pain hit him in the side. It sent him plummeting down the street at incredible speeds, golden sand exploding into the air where he had been standing. Oh, so the Sandman had attacked him. That was good to know.

Struggling back to his feet, Pitch quickly pulled on his cloak of aloofness as he glared down the Guardian's. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?" A bolt of joy spread through Pitch when he noticed Jack wasn't standing against him with the Guardian's.

Bunnymund stepped forward, hate present in his eyes as he glared at Pitch. "You're sending your Nightmares out again," the pooka said coldly.

The fairy fluttered angrily above them. "What is it this time?" She demanded, "Another attempt to take over the world?" The Sandman shook a fist at him, and wasn't that adorable.

Pitch sneered. "I happen to be doing my job," he told them coldly, "You can't get rid of fear."

Sanderson straightened up, expression furious. The golden sand flashed above his head, the symbol of the moon and a snowflake showing. It seemed like the Man in the Moon had warned them about Pitch having a plan for Jack.

Pitch could only stare at them in befuddlement before snorting. "What my plans for Frost are is none of your concern." And certainly not appropriate to be said out loud.

The rabbit hissed at him, wasn't that just precious? But Pitch's eyes were drawn to St. North, who was simply standing there with sabres drawn. There was fear in St. North, a present fear he couldn't hide as he watched Pitch with hooded eyes. A fear for young Jack, who spent so much of his time without the other Guardian's. Jack, whose mind had been hurt so badly by his solitude he didn't even notice worried St. North. And even more telling, Pitch could see the fear all parents held for the children on St. North when he thought about Jack.

And the fear that Jack had gone running to Pitch, forsaking the Guardian's for darkness.

Pitch couldn't help but smirk at these fears which set the Guardian's on edge. Even better now St. North was ready to fight. "Where is Jack?" St. North demanded.

"Why would I know that? It's the beginning of winter. Frost could be off causing mayhem anywhere in the world."

There was a clear threat in Bunnymund's face. "Listen you ratbag," a boomerang was drawn, "If you've lain one hand on him..." It seemed like Pitch was just going to have to fight his way out of this one. If he played his cards right, he'd be able to retreat into the shadows to lick his wounds before trying to find a way to explain this to Jack. Not that the boy would believe him.

The fairy lunged forward, and Pitch readied himself to dart out of his way. But he didn't have to.

The crack of a gun echoed through the still night air, shattering a street lamp. Everyone, Guardian's and Nightmare King, all turned to stare in shock at the new spirit who was standing there. Rosie the Riveter, the spirit who Pitch had greeted earlier that night, stood at the end of the street with a scowl on her face. A gun was pointed at Toothiana as the new spirit glared at the fighters.

"Ya doin' good there Pitch?" Rosie called out, her thick Brooklyn accent clear and sharp. At his hesitant nod she turned her full attention to the Guardian's, "What the hell is all this?"

The rabbit scowled at Rosie, which Pitch knew from experience was dangerous. "Stay out of this sheila," he said coldly, "This doesn't concern you."

Wrong answer. Pitch stepped back warily as Rosie's eyes narrowed dangerously, her fingers flexing on the trigger. "Anythin' happen on my turf concerns me," she growled back, "Now why don't you lot go back across the Pond to where you belong before anyone gets hurt. Mate."

The rabbit snarled and lunged towards Rosie, the other Guardian's following close behind. Pitch quickly summoned his sand scythe to defend her, not the Rosie needed it. She was more than capable of fighting back but Jack would be disappointed if Pitch didn't help out. Luckily, they were not alone in the fight.

Pitch blocked a stroke of Sanderson's whip with his scythe as the fairy came racing towards him from the side. But before she could reach him, a long black arm shot out from the shadows to knock her from the air. The Slenderman unfolded from an alley way, keeping his attention firmly on Toothiana as he stretched and shifted around her to keep the warrior queen away from Pitch. He could see Rosie from the corner of his eye locked in combat with Bunnymund. The pooka was having a difficult time fighting the girl as she wielded gun and wrench with deadly accuracy.

Pitch had to worry about his own battle being fought. It was difficult to fend of both Sanderson and St. North, but he was managing just fine. It certainly helped that there were shadows everywhere in the street, letting Pitch shift around them without having to fight to badly. It seemed like they would actually hold the Guardian's off. Both he and Rosie were well versed in warfare and fighting. But the Slenderman typically kept to himself and was faring much worse against Toothiana.

A loud wail cut through the battle, bringing Pitch and Rosie to a brief stop. They turned to see the Slenderman holding his arm which had a long cut in in, wailing mournfully as his blank face stared up at Toothiana. The warrior queen, for her part, just looked confused about the dark spirit's actions as he cowered from her in the street.

Pitch couldn't keep the rage from growing inside of him. The Slenderman was one of the youngest spirits Pitch had met, only really forming around 2009 according to Jack. He was little more than a babe, even by the reckoning of the young American spirits. And judging from Rosie's face, she felt the same way.

A scream of rage left the New York spirit as she threw her wrench with all her might at Toothiana. Pitch quickly moved through the shadows to stand over the Slenderman protectively, his scythe at the ready. This had gone from just wanting to escape to committing murder. The Guardian's had harmed a child spirit and needed to pay.

"STOP!"

A blast of ice brought the fight to a standstill. Every person looked up as Jack came hurtling to the fight, a furious expression on his young face. Rage looked amazing on the boy, Pitch realized. It made his icy eyes sparkle and brought color to his pale cheeks. What would it feel like to pull Jack in for a quick kiss when he was angry.

Lighting down on the ground, Jack glared at the gathered spirits like they were naughty children. The Guardian's seemed unsure of what to do in the face of Jack's wrath. But Rosie and Slenderman both wilted like scolded children, staring down at the street in shame. Pitch wasn't sure which action he was supposed to follow, or if instead he should grab Jack and kiss him senseless.

"What. Is going on here," Jack demanded furiously, ice spreading out from his feet. Pitch decided the side of the building was much more interesting right then, just like Rosie found the ground to be interesting. "What were you...no. You know what. Someone tell me what started this."

"These jerks attacked poor Pitch!" Rosie shrieked just as the rabbit yelled, "Black's been spreading Nightmares again!" The two turned and glared at each other much to Jack's exasperation.

"So what? You all decided it would be a good idea to get into a brawl in the middle of a city?" Jack demanded, gesturing wildly with his staff, "What the hell!"

St. North stepped forward, a worried expression on his face as he regarded Jack. "Jack my boy," he began softly, "Man in Moon sent us warning that Pitch had plans for you."

That meddling bastard needed to mind his own business. Pitch straightened up indignantly, refusing to look at Jack and see his reaction. Jack for his part, blushed with frost out of embarrassment instead of anger at the question even as Rosie muttered "I bet he does". Sanderson's eyes widened in shock as they darted between Jack and Pitch before a smug smile spread across his face. Pitch glared at the dream weaver, warning him not to say anything about this.

The fairy fluttered down to Jack's level. "Why has Pitch been spending more time around you Jack?" She asked softly.

Jack let out a frustrated sigh, "Tooth, it's nothing bad I promise. Pitch's has decided to join the American spirits, no big deal."

"It's a very big deal!" The pooka yelled, looming threateningly over Jack. "What the bloody hell are you doin' givin Pitch room to spread Nightmares!"

"It's his job!" Rosie screamed in anger. A wave of fondness spread over Pitch at her defense of him, "You don't see us messing up your jobs just cause we feel like it!" The pooka snarled at her, lunging forward only to be pushed back by an exasperated Jack.

"Look if everyone can stop fighting for one minute I will explain everything," Jack pleaded, "Guys...come on. This doesn't have to get any stupider than it already is."

The Guardian's traded guilty glances at that before returning their attention back to Jack. Pitch refused to apologize for simply existing, and it seemed like the other American spirits stood by him. Why, even Jack, a Guardian, was not mad at Pitch for working. For getting in a fight in the middle of a street, yes. But not for existing. Trading glances with Rosie, the two lowered their weapons and relaxed at Jack's request.

The relief on the winter spirit's face was short lived as a whiny came echoing down the deserted street. For a brief moment, Pitch expected a Nightmare to appear. And judging from how the Guardian's readied their weapons they expected the same thing.

A very familiar mad cackle came echoing down the street over the sound of hooves, causing Jack's face to go dangerously blank. Pitch had to struggle to keep from smiling as the other spirit native to New York appeared. Headless Horseman came galloping into full view, green fire dripping from his eyes in the pumpkin.

" **Who dares to attack the spirits of this land!** " He thundered, horse rearing as his sword flashed in the night. It was a very impressive sight, such a strong dark spirit showcasing his power. The Guardian's wavered under his fury, not sure how to handle the new arrival. With the Horseman against them, they may very well lose.

"Goddamnit it Isaiah! You are not helping!" And of course Jack had to ruin the whole thing by yelling at the Horseman. The Guardian's all took a step away from their youngest, eyes wide in shock at his sudden explosion of anger.

Isaiah, for his part, did not seem to care about the rage pouring off of Jack in icy waves. He turned and smiled at Jack, "Hey Jackie. Just a minute and I'll get this sorted out nice and proper." The fire returned to his eyes as he glared at the Guardian's. " **You have meddled in affairs that do not concern you! Prepare to meet your reckoning!"**

A wave of Jack's staff summoned a blast of wind that put out the fire with an annoyed glare before turning to St. North. "Look, I'll explain everything to you back at the pole," Jack pleaded with the Guardian of Wonder, "There's a perfectly good explanation for everything North, but this is not the best place to deal with it!"

Bunnymund glared, "Trying to get out of something there mate?"

Jack was not impressed. "Trying to keep the property damage to a minimum," Jack said dryly, turning and glaring at the American spirits. Pitch glared back, refusing to be shamed by the slip of a boy. It didn't help that the Slenderman was cowering behind him, whining softly about how he'd made Jack mad. It must have a made a comical sight but Jack wasn't laughing about it. Rosie did not look sorry in the least as she leaned against a car, and poor Isaiah just seemed terribly put out about the whole thing.

"Was any of that necessary?" Jack hissed breath appearing as the air cooled rapidly around them due to his temper.

Rosie huffed, staring down her nose at Jack. "They came to ma city to mess with Pitch," she announced haughtily, "And you expect me to let that go?"

Jack's eye twitched. His fingers twitched on his staff almost like he was squeezing someone's neck before he turned deliberately to Isaiah. "And why are you here?" Jack hissed.

The Horseman just beamed at him. "I got bored chasing kids and decided to scare the Guardians," he announced proudly hands on his hips. Pitch had to turn away to keep from laughing at how incredibly proud Isaiah sounded. He didn't think Jack would appreciate that and after all the problems that had happened, Pitch wanted to keep Jack happy.

"You got bored," Jack said face doing an odd twitch at the information. "You know what, we talked about this. You can't just go around attacking people. Even if they did deserve it!"

"But they started it," the hissing voice of the Slenderman whined. For a brief moment Pitch had hope it would work. By being the youngest of them, the Slenderman was most likely to get away with his sort of thing.

However, the rage clear on Jack's face made it apparent that wasn't going to work. "I want you all to go back to your lairs and think about what you've done," Jack snapped. Immediate protest sprung up around Pitch as the spirits loudly defended their actions. For his part, the Nightmare King just watched silently. He refused to join in with the childish yelling of the other spirits.

"No, no protesting," Jack snapped. Pitch immediately focused back on Jack. There was a thrill of fear running through him, a nice light icy blue one that wasn't anything to be alarmed with. It did make Pitch wonder what Jack was afraid of though, "Just go before I do something I'll eventually regret!" Ah, Jack was struggling not to laugh at them. Now Pitch could see the slight curve of his lips and the twinkle in blue eyes.

The others seemed to realize it as well. Isaiah let out a delighted laugh before wheeling his horse around and riding off down the street. Rosie simply huffed before grabbing the Slenderman and dragging him into the shadows leaving Pitch and Jack behind in the street.

Jack turned to Pitch with a delighted smile, reaching out to tug in grey robes. "So...brawling in the street huh?" Jack teased, "And here I thought you were more dignified than that."

Pitch huffed at that. "I assure you, I am," he drawled absent mindedly wiping a bit of blood from his lip, "However the Guardian's decided they needed to keep me from taking over the world again." It was best to leave out the part where they wanted to know his plans for Jack. Pitch had finally gotten Jack all to himself, he didn't need the Guardians to ruin it."

"I'll talk to them," Jack said softly, a scowl on his face, "They can't just...you don't upset another spirits work knowingly if they're doing their job. How could they...." He sounded so young, so lost. Jack's image of the perfect Guardians was crumbling away and Pitch couldn't find any joy in it. He simply found it tragic that Jack was so sad.

"They'll listen to you. You remember what I was like the first time here," Pitch pointed out dryly. Reminding Jack of nearly being run over by Isaiah was worth any humiliation as Jack happily laughed. Pitch couldn't keep himself from smiling fondly as he reached out to take Nack's hand in his. "Just tell them the rules, and they'll come to understand."

A strange expression crossed Jack's face. "I would have thought you'd want me to choose," he whispered softly in the night air.

He should. Right now would be the perfect time to press Jack to get him to turn away from the Guardians and remain by Pitch's side. But he couldn't do that, not when it would upset Jack. "I'll never ask you to choose Jack," Pitch whispered desperately. It hurt to be so vulnerable to Jack, to let the boy learn how much he cared for him.

But when Jack smiled adoringly up at him, Pitch knew he would promise the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, Isaiah. The greatest way to ruin a mood. 
> 
> Remember, this is the first time the Guardian's have met these spirits ever. And they have to deal with Isaiah. Jack is just so done with this whole mess.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two part chapter. Part 1 is Jack dealing with the Guardian's after the mess of last time. And part 2 is Pitch dealing with his emotions and all that fun stuff. 
> 
> Plus, there is a Disney cameo in the second half. I hope you enjoy it.

Jack didn't want to be doing this, but he had no other choice. He knew the Guardians had questions about the whole Pitch thing, questions Jack should have answered a long time ago really. Oh, they'd been asked but Jack never answered. Tooth had once wanted to know if the Jersey Devil was real, Bunny always complained about the Groundhog (Jack hated that guy), and Sandy always wanted to get to know the other spirits in the Americas.

Actually, now that Jack thought about it he had noticed how interested Sandy was in La Muerte. He should let the former star know she was married soon...

Right, back to the topic. The Guardians knew nothing about Jack's neighbors and they liked it that way. The less the Old World spirits knew about them, the less problems they had. But now Jack had to explain everything and he just wasn't sure where to start.

With a pained groan Jack shut the window behind him and stomped into the living room. He hated being the responsible one, and those jerks were the reason he was here. Jack was going to make them all pay for this. They would rue the day they made him act like an adult. 

Jack stomped over to his chair, purposefully ignoring the other Guardians. They would suffer the silent treatment for as long as Jack wanted. He'd warned them not to mess with his people, he'd specifically stated not to talk to them. And they had. They'd gotten into a fight. Jack could understand the Americans enjoyment of fighting. Being friends with nearly everyone on two continents made it difficult to just punch someone in the face.

But the Guardians were adults! They should know better than this! It was bullshit, and Jack was holding onto that rage as long as he could. Setting his staff to the side, Jack crossed his arms and glared at the gathered Guardians. "I just want you all to know how incredibly disappointed I am," Jack announced feeling like a school teacher. And honestly, it was worth it seeing how confused everyone was.

"You...you're disappointed?" Bunny spluttered and Jack had to work very hard not to laugh at his righteous indignation. "Those spirits decided to attack us. Over Pitch Black!"

Jack rolled his eyes at that. "Of course they did, what did you think would happen?" Jack demanded. The stunned expressions on his friend's faces gave it away that they probably didn't understand why this wasn't such a big deal. Oh spirits, they didn't did they. With a groan Jack buried his face in his hands. "You have no idea what went wrong...please tell me you've met others from the Americas besides me?' 

North shifted forward,making sure he had eye contact with Jack. "We have met the Groundhog," he pointed out reasonably. And yes, Jack would give them that. But there were so many more of them than just the Groundhog.

"He doesn't count," Jack spat. He kind of regretted it when Tooth flinched at the venom in his voice, but there were bigger concerns, "I meant have you met anymore American spirits like me? Either contient works, it really does." 

Sandy nodded happily before a sand image of an old woman holding a staff appeared in golden sand appeared. Well, color me impressed Jack thought his eyebrows raising in shock. It made sense in a weird way that Sandy knew Mama Odie. But the others apparently hadn't encountered the others. "I didn't know there were any besides you and the Groundhog," Tooth confessed, a nervous smile on her face. 

That...made this way more complicated than it needed to be. Now Jack had to explain their whole system of balance on top of the Pitch joining them thing. "Alright, so to start off, there a lot more of us than just me and the Groundhog," Jack explained, a headache beginning to form, "Like...a lot more on both continents. And each of us have a specific role we need to fill to keep everything moving smoothly there."

Bunny snorted, "Like that crazed sheila has an actual purpose."

Jack glared at him. "That's the type of attitude that got you guys into this mess," he pointed out dryly, "And yeah, Rosie the Riveter had a purpose Bunny. All of us do, even Slenderman. Who you met." That one deserved a glare, one Jack had practiced after three hundred years of looking after wayward spirits. He was pleased it made the Guardians squirm. "Look, we have fertility spirits." Even if Jack did hate Johnny Appleseed. "And weather spirits, besides me. And like, eight bogeymen besides Pitch. And that's just North America." 

Tooth's wings buzzed in agitation, "There's more dark spirits than just Pitch near you?"

"I guess? We don't really split over the whole light dark thing. It's more regional" Jack drawled out. He wished he could hold his staff right now, just to have something to play with, "And even then, the dark spirits aren't evil. They just have a different job to do." 

"I can't believe this!" And now Bunny was yelling at him, just great, "You're defending Pitch's actions today!"

"Yes, I am," Jack snapped back, "He's one of us now, and that means he has a job to do. And it also means that I am honor bound to defend him from others who interfere with his job. That's why the other spirits attacked you! You can't just upset the balance of things because you don't like Pitch!" 

"Jack, what do you mean balance?" It really wasn't fair that North sounded all reasonable. It made it a lot harder to stay mad at him. And it had been difficult to get mad in the first place seeing how North hadn't actually been hitting anyone when Jack showed up. 

"I mean there's a balance for us, there always has been. The first spirits taught us all spirits can coexist, light and dark, and showed us how." Jack explained softly. He hated that his eyes were filling with tears as he remember the countless spirits who had come before him, his wonderful precious family, who were gone now. "And when they...they disappeared we decided to keep their tradition around. Look, we're not like European spirits. We don't fight amongst each other, no ones tries to take out anyone, and we all help each other out. Even if we don't like each other." 

North leaned back, a puzzled frown on his face. "Then why did you help us stop Pitch before?" 

"Taking over the world isn't exactly balanced," Jack explained dryly, "Plus, he didn't really join us until about five years ago...after Isaiah forced me to go to his lair to apologize." 

Sandy perked up at that, a series of sy,bold flashing above his head. It took a while, but eventually Jack realized he was asking why Jack needed to apologize to Pitch.

"I didn't need to apologize, Isaiah did because he's a crazy asshole," Jack announced primly. He was unable to keep the fond note from his voice as he spoke about Isaiah. "This doesn't change anything. I'm still a Guardian and will do my job, even if it is against Pitch."

Bunny did not look reassured though, he was still glaring suspiciously. "Are ya sure you'll be able to fight Pitch if it came down to it?" 

"It won't. Our spirits don't mess with the balance," Jack said coolly. He couldn't keep his expression neutral, disgust was beginning to creep across his face at the thought of any of his friend's daring such a thing. "And Pitch will not be a problem. Like I said, he's one of us. And we deal with our problems before they become too dangerous." It had only happened once the entire time Jack had been alive, the White Woman had been corrupted somehow and became a serial killer to a dangerous degree. Jack had helped to put her down, even though the memories were painful to dwell on. 

Bunny still didn't look convinced, not that Jack blamed him. No other group of spirits acted like the Americans (and by Americans, Jack meant from both American continents) and it was a hit of an adjustment. Sandy seemed to get it, and Tooth looked like she was coming around. But North still looked worried which was fine, Jack already planned on them having a one on one meeting about it soon. "If it would make you guys feel better, I can get the others to apologize," Jack offered.

North's eyebrows rose in shock. "You will make Pitch Black apologize?"

"Well, no. You guys attacked him, I'm not making him apologize for that. But the others? Hell yeah they do. They should know better than that." Jack scowled, "Yeah, they're going to apologize. Especially because they roped poor Timmy in with them."

A sand image of a man on a horse was Sandy's question about if he was Timmy. "No, actually the Slenderman is named Timmy," Jack explained to star. "Real name's Timothy, but Timmy is more fun to say." Sandy nodded sagely in agreement. That right there, reason why Sandy was his favorite. 

"The Slenderman is named Timmy?" Bunny should not be laughing about that. Eyes narrowing, Jack focused on the rabbit and said primly, "At least his name doesn't spell his holiday, E. Aster."

There was a strained moment of silence before Bunny lunged forward, knocking Jack out of his chair. The young Guardian could do nothing but shriek as he was subjected to the worst horror known to mankind. A tickle attack. It freaking sucked being the baby of the group, Jack mused while trying to squirm away from his punishment. No one else made him deal with this ridiculousness.

~*~

Around the same time Jack was trying to explain to the Guardian's just what had happened, Pitch found himself in the southern part of America. Not the dry southwest, he didn't often venture down there. Pitch had found himself in what Jack referred to as the Deep South. A swampy land filled with bogs and trees weighed down by thick strands of Spanish moss. 

Pitch loved it here, slinking through the shadows cast by the trees. Skimming across the surface of the bayou and drifting through the mausoleums was a joy he rarely indulged in. The sticky heat often left Jack weak and exhausted, so Pitch made sure he didn't venture here too often. Typically Pitch came south when Jack was off spreading winter to the rest of the world. 

There was another benefit of spending time in the mausoleums. Several of the darker spirits from the south spent time there, hiding in shadows waiting to jump out and scare others. They were much cleaner than mausoleums Pitch had encountered in Europe as far as spirits went. No ghouls or banshees wandered through here, and according to Jack they would never dare to. And it was all due to one spirit who lived there. 

"Mr. Black!" Ah yes, think of her and she will appear. Pitch turned to face the spirit who was floating towards him over the mud soaked ground. Dahlia Blue-Ribbon was a fearsome creature, though she didn't look so. Her long civil war era dress was a deep blue, decorated with white dahlia flowers that matched her parasol perfectly. Deep sunken in grey eyes and the thick blue ribbon wrapped around her throat made her appear like the perfect southern belle. But Pitch had been warned about her, and appearances were deceiving. 

A regal look appeared on her face as she held out an arm. "Escort me Mr. Black," she demanded, offering her lace covered arm. With Jack's warnings in his mind, Pitch gladly took her arm as they floated through the tombs. "I hear you've been spending quite a bit of time with Mr. Frost," Dahlia commented mildly, her thick southern drawl somehow making each word even more dangerous.

"I have Miss Blue-Ribbon," Pitch said politely. "Whatever you do, be polite when you talk to Dahlia," Jack had warned one day, "As long as you act like a gentleman, she won't rip your face off." 

"I am glad you've found such a wonderful companion Mr. Black," Dahlia demurred, twirling her parasol, "But forgive me if I am too forward, are you happy?"

Pitch offered a polite smile to her. "I have everything I ever wanted," he explained making sure to heel his tone neutral, "Why would I not be happy?"

"But do you have everything you need?" Dahlia questioned. Pitch opened his mouth to respond but she sniffed in derision. "Of course you do not, that's why we're talking. Well, there's no time to waste then Mr. Black. We're off to find what you need to be happy." Her grip was like iron as she dragged Pitch through the shadows. It was not a pleasant experience to be forced around in such a manner, one Pitch had never experienced until now. Still he knew better than to say anything to Dahlia in fear of making her angry. 

They reappeared deep in the bayou, floating over the murky water. Lightning bugs flickered around them casting an eerie glow over everything. A massive tree loomed over them, an old riverboat caught in the branches and glowing cheerfully. "Come along then," Dahlia ordered floating up towards the boat. Pitch followed after her, not because he wished to but because she would no doubt hunt him down if he didn't. 

The inside of the boat was much more cheerful than Pitch was expecting. Glittering colored bottles hung around casting multi colored light everywhere and the walls were covered in tapestries and collections of stuff. Dahlia seemed quite used to the mad clutter as she swept through it all. "Mama Odie," she called, leading Pitch around a massive bathtub, "There's someone here who needs your help!" 

"I'm comin' child!" A cheery voice called out from deeper in the boat. The laughter that followed brought an image of Jack to Pitch's mind, it held the same infectious cheer. The woman who appeared was not one Pitch was expecting. Small and dressed in white and gold, she moved forward blindly until she reached the pair of dark spirits. "Well now, little Dahlia all grown up! Why don't you visit me more often?" The old woman, who Pitch assumed was Mama Odie, scolded good naturedly before turning her attention to Pitch. "So, this just be Pitch Black I've been hearing about. I'd introduce you to Juju but he's out havin' a good time." 

"A pleasure Mistress Odie," Pitch said politely. He wasn't sure he could call any spirit Mama anything which the older spirit didn't seem to mind judging by the absent minded pat she gave his hand. 

"Come now child, take a seat here and tell me what's wrong," she said cheerfully leading the pair to a small table. Pitch had a brief moment where he fought down hysterical laughter as he realized the sigh the three of them must make here. Oh, if Jack could see him now. 

"It seems Mr. Black is missing something," Dahlia said primly, steering aside her parasol and pulling out a delicate fan. Gently wafting air to cool herself, she was every inch a refined lady. "And I could not simply leave our Yankee brother suffering so. It would not be kind to do." 

Mama Odie nodded sagely, leaning back in her chair. "I see, I see," she leaned forward, blind eyes suddenly fixed on Pitch, "Tell me, have you got everything you need?"

Pitch sat back in his chair. "I have everything I've ever wanted," he said simply. It was apparently the wrong answer judging by the commiserating looks the two females sent each other. With a heavy sigh, Mama Odie turned her attention back to Pitch. "That's all good that you've got everything you wanted. But I'm talkin' about what you need. What will make you truly happy," she explained before pulling away from the table, "Come with me dear and I'll get you taken care of." 

She led Pitch away from the table and over to the bathtub he had been trying to avoid. But it seemed she would be thwarting that effort. With a resigned sigh, Pitch leaned over the tub to look at...some kind of soup? at Mama Odie's urging. "Gumbo, gumbo in the pot. We need an answer," Mama Odie whispered, her golden magic landing in the mix, "Whatcha got?" 

For a brief second Pitch expected nothing to happen. But then the magic took hold of the gumbo. The middle of the soup swirled into golden light as an image appeared inside of it. Pitch could only watch, stunned, to see a figure appearing. Delicate feet skimmed over entire buildings made of glowing ice, frost curling outward. The familiar smile appeared on a well known face and once again Pitch could only study the snowflakes in his eyes. 

Jack Frost looked back at him.

Pitch looked up in shock, meeting Mama Odie and Dahlia's knowing gaze. "Seems Jackie big is what you really need," Mama Odie told him softly.

Still trapped in a feeling of disbelief, Pitch could only stare at Jack. "Well?" Dahlia asked gently, "Aren't you going to pursue Mr. Frost?" Pitch didn't remember saying anything to them. He was still in shock. But the next thing he knew, he was falling through the shadows in search of Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pitch has finally recognized that he needs Jack. Again, because this is all from Pitch's prespective, we won't get Jack's view on this whole thing.
> 
> Dahlia Blue-Ribbon is an urban legend from my hometown. Basically, she goes around testing the trustworthiness of young men by marrying them and telling them not to touch her blue ribbon. And if they do touch it, her head falls off. It they don't, she lives a happy life with the man. Dahlia is basically our version of the bogeyman in my town.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack is at the Harbin Ice Festival in China. Remember, while Jack is originally from the Americas he has to travel across the world to spread winter. If you read the sequel of this, King and Lionheart, it explains why Jack has to do this. But, if you want to finish this one first I will be mentioning the reason why in a later chapter. But yeah, I saw pictures of the Ice Festival and immediately thought of Jack. Google it, it amazes me what people can do with ice.

The Harbin Ice Festival was alight with color and life when Pitch appeared. The massive ice sculptures dominated the landscape, stretching up to form magnificent glittering palaces. Colored lights shine through the ice creating a magical feeling in the air around him. Joy was a heavy feeling, cloying like honey on Pitch's tongue as he searched for Jack.

 

He found the boy by the great ice slide playing with the Wind. Well placed skids of frost and gusts of chilly air would send delighted children sliding down with shrieks of joy and laughter. It was everything that made up Jack's center and Pitch could see how it strengthened the winter child. 

 

Jack was practically glowing with power. The multicolored lights sparkled off of the frost on his hoodie and lit up his eyes. Jack was radiant like this, flushed pale lavender and full of laughs and joy. A curl of want suddenly filled Pitch, pooling in his stomach. It had been so long since he felt this was for someone. To think it was for the small slip of a child dancing in the air above him....

 

"He's what you need," Mama Odie had said earlier that night. And right then, Pitch believed her fully. He needed Jack with him, right this instant. He was barely in control of himself as he sent a whip of black sand to wrap around Jack's ankle and pulled down. A loud shriek left the boy as he fell from the air, into the safety of Pitch's arms. 

 

Jack's delighted laughter brought a hint of a smile to Pitch's lips as he gently set Jack onto his feet. It was a useless gesture seeing how the boy floated back up to eye level. The small smile turned fond as Pitch admired Jack's beauty in the lights. 

 

"Pitch?" Jack asked softly, a thread of fear in his voice. The smile disappeared as the silvery blue fear came to him as easily as breathing. Jack shouldn't be afraid, not of him at least. The very thought that Jack was afraid of Pitch brought an ugly feeling to his chest as he searched for what it was that Jack was so scared off...

 

It was a familiar fear, one Pitch had felt from countless others. But never Jack. Fear of being discovered, of being cast out as wrong. How could he love another man, he'd been told it was wrong. Sure, North had said it was fine but what would the others say when they learned how much Jack loved the boogeyman...

 

Blinking slowly, Pitch's sense returned to him. Oh that stupid child, he thought fondly reaching out to gently touch a pale cheek. How could he ever fear being turned away? Didn't hem know what he'd reduced Pitch to? 

 

He grabbed the boy and pulled him in close, forcing Jack's head up to meet his eyes. The shock in icy blue eyes was his undoing and Pitch pressed a kiss to Jack's slack mouth. He kept Jack close as Jack's rigid limbs turned loose and pliant. Ice hold hands pressed against his cheek as Jack shyly kisses back, pressing himself closer still as he clung desperately to Pitch. 

 

Slowly pulling back, Pitch could keep himself from continuing to gently stroke Jack's cheek in comfort. The Guardian looked so lost and confused, arms locked around Pitch's neck as he searched for safety. Those earlier fears were still thrumming under Jack's skin and with another gentle kiss Pitch sent to soothing them.

 

"There's nothing to be afraid of Jack," he murmured aware of the irony of the a Nightmare King saying such a thing, "There's nothing wrong with you, and there is nothing you could do that would make me leave." 

 

A sweet smile spread across Jack's face as he leaned closer to Pitch, kissing him again. Pitch smiled into the kiss and held Jack close as snow began to fall lightly, lit into an array of spectacular colors by the lights around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Jack and Pitch are actually in a relationship. Don't worry, we have a couple more chapters to go before the story is done. Cause we get the Guardian's reaction, the American spirits reaction, and even better how can Jack and Pitch attempt to act like rational adults.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pitch is the reason I can't write anything nice. This was meant to just be a cute little piece before I made them miserable, but then Pitch had to go on an exestential crisis and I couldn't deny him. 
> 
> But seriously, I love how wierd Pitch is. The dork.

One kiss led to two, two led to more, and then Pitch was dragging Jack through the darkness and into the lair. It felt wonderful to have Jack pressed against his body, clinging tightly during the fall. Usually Pitch made the shadows feel dangerous when he used them on people. But for Jack he made an exception.

The shadows dragged themselves against Jack's skin. Under Pitch's command, they remained soft and sensual, pressing against the boy as best he could. By the time they emerged in the lair, Pitch had his arms full of properly debauched ice spirit. 

He was beautiful like this, Pitch mused dragging Jack back in for another kiss. Eyes hazy and soft as he panted with kiss swollen lips, clinging tight to Pitch's robes as his legs gave out from the pleasure. So sweet, so innocent. Too bad that Jack would stay that way for long Pitch decided while using the shadows to tear Jack's clothes off of his body.

Just like freshly fallen snow, all that pale unmarked skin against that shine against the shadows. It would be a privilege to mouth dark bruises onto that pale neck so everyone who looked at Jack would know he was claimed. It would be a joy to make the child kept against him. To watch as Jack's usually clever mouth went slack with pleasure and his playful body fell limp against the Nightmare King's sheets. 

"Pitch?" Jack asked shyly as he was lowered onto black satin sheets in the bed room. Pitch could do nothing but run comforting hands over Jack's naked body, soothing the skittish boy back into the pillows and sheets with soft kisses that left Jack a whimpering mess.

Pitch wanted to sink his fingers into Jack's ribs and pull them back. To run adoring hands over his beating heart, so small but so strong. His fingers ached to dig into Jack's soft flesh, to pull beads of blood from the boy that he could lick away so he would always have a bit of Jack with him. Even better if he could bite down and take some of Jack's flesh with him. And each time Jack would press his fingers to the scar, he would know where he belonged.

Here, in Pitch's bed.

Oh, Jack would be his ruin but he was made for Pitch. Only Jack knew the pain of not being believed in. Jack, sweet Jack who was gasping so prettily under him, had dragged Pitch kicking and screaming from the depths of his lair and back into the light. Jack had given him a family, Jack had introduced Pitch to the American spirits who welcomed Pitch with open arms. Jack made Pitch's existence fun, brought joy back into his life and made him happy. Obviously Jack was never allowed to leave again. He had to remain here, safe where Pitch could watch after him and make sure no one ever took the smile off his beautiful face. 

And touching Jack...oh, that is its own addiction. Pitch is helpless to keep his hands off of Jack, even when the sprite isn't sprawled wantonly across his bed with the most beautiful flush. He simply can't believe he is allowed to run his fingers through Jack's kitten soft hair, or mouth the delicate curve of his collarbone. 

But what Pitch loves to do most of all is curve his hand around Jack's small waist. To fell just how tiny Jack and how he can wrap himself around the boy while covering him with his body. And it amazes Pitch that he can hold so much of Jack in his palm while his other hand works the boy open. 

The tears that filled Jack's eyes at the uncomfortable burn from the stretching fingers. Pitch was thankful to comfort Jack through the pain, to brush away the tears and kiss Jack back into mindless need. It was only when Jack was making those soft little gasps, as if he was drowning in Pitch, that Pitch moved on.

Cupping his hand around Jack's jaw, Pitch pressed his thumb to Jack's pulse. To feel it thruming in arousal made Pitch become even harder against Jack's silky thigh. He can feel every muscle in Jack's mouth as he pants for air, can feel how that thin neck tenses as Jack claws helplessly at Pitch's back as he writhes in pleasure. Feeling that precious pulse jump under his thumb as he pushed into Jack left Pitch groaning, forced to bury his face in Jack's bony shoulder to keep from cumming inside the boy so early into their evening. 

Feeling Jack's soft pants against his hair was what drove Pitch onwards. His hand pressed against the curve of Jack's hip, covering the boy's back as his other hand wrapped around a pale thigh and lifted it. A sharp pang of arousal spread through Pitch when he realized his hand covered Jack's entire thigh, a band of darkness against that milky skin. 

Pitch knew he could drown in the noises Jack made as he thrust into the boy. Each little hitch of breath and whimper felt like salvation. Each twitch if Jack's legs against his own felt like a cleansing. And even better was the little pricks of Jack's nails felt like a blessing. Bending his head, Pitch committed his own worship of Jack's mouth, licking his way inside the cold mouth and tasting winter on Jack's tongue. Each thrust of his hips into Jack's open silky body was absolution that left Pitch drained.

He could lose himself in prayer to Jack's body every moment if given the chance. And judging from the pleasure so apparent in Jack's adoring face, he would welcome the psalms Pitch would kiss into his palms and neck. He let go of Jack's thigh to wrap his hand around Jack's straining cock, marveling at how he can hold all of Jack's arousal in his palm. His Jack, such a small and perfect handful, forever immortalized on the cusp of adulthood. 

"P-Pitch...oh Pitch please!" Jack cried head thrown back in pleasure. "Please...please please please...I c-can't...can't...."

"Hush now delicia," Pitch murmured, unaware of the pet name as he held Jack even closer, continuing to torture the boy with pleasure that left his body twitching in delight, "It's all right, I'm here to take care of you. Just let go now, you're so good...so wonderful. I don't deserve you, no one deserves such perfection..."

And oh, if he had thought Jack felt good before, it was nothing like this. Feeling that silky heat around his cock tighten as every muscle in Jack's body seized in pleasure was divine. The cold seed against his palm burned in the best way leaving Pitch unable to do anything but thrust deeper into Jack's willing body until his own pleasure became too much and he buried himself deep in Jack's body and filled the boy. Slumping onto Jack, Pitch lazily kissed Jack as he continued to play absently with the sprite's cock. He felt content, buried deep in Jack's soft body while holding Jack's soft handful. He could lose himself here, Pitch mused absently, and he wouldn't regret a thing. 

"Pitch!" Ice cold hands pushed against Pitch's head, getting his attention. Looking up golden eyes met Jack's teary blue ones. Concern spread through Pitch before Jack's babbling pleas hit his ears. "Pitch, Pitch, too much, it's too much," Jack begged with a whine tugging on the grey hand that held Jack's soft cock. A sigh of relief left Pitch as he realized Jack wasn't hurt, just too sensitive right then. Letting go, Pitch reached back up to cup Jack's cheek again as he kissed the boy back into a dazed haze. 

It nearly hurt Pitch to let himself slip out of Jack's body. Already Pitch missed how Jack's body held his cock close, even as he tugged Jack into his arms. He was limp from the pleasure, a doll Pitch was able to manipulate into his lap and under his chin. Jack happy him against his shoulder was present enough for Pitch as he dragged the covers over them both. A huff of laughter left him when Jack caught the hand that tucked the sheets around them. Fondness filled Pitch with unfamiliar warmth as he watched Jack happily play with his own much larger hand with a sleepy pleased smile. 

"What did you call me?" Jack asked softly, tilting his face up to stare at Pitch. 

Pitch curled his fingers around Jack's tiny hands, smiling at the sprite's delighted grin at the sight of grey and white together. "What did I call you when?" Pitch questioned, understandably distracted with the perfect lap full Jack was. He turned to see a violet flush spread across Jack's cheeks and that was all the clue he needed. "Do you mean when I was buried inside of you?" The deepening of Jack's blush was answer enough. "I called you delicia."

"What's the mean?" Jack asked softly gazing up at Pitch shyly through his bangs. Pitch felt like Jack deserved a reward for being so good, so he bent down to kiss Jack again. And then again because the sweet winter taste in Jack's mouth was distracting.

"Darling," Pitch murmured between kisses, "Delicia means darling."

"Darling," Jack breathed against Pitch's mouth before ducking his head to bury his face in Pitch's shoulder. Gazing down at him, Pitch was surprised to see Jack pouting at the covers. "Now I have to come up with a cute pet name for you," Jack groused petulantly. There was really no other course of action than to kiss the pout off of Jack's mouth until he was smiling happily once again. Afterwards, Pitch can't stop himself from smiling helplessly down at Jack. Jack is sweet and soft, and so very small curled up asleep in Pitch's arms. 

It's so very perfect. And Pitch will do everything he can to keep Jack as happy as he is right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, the next chapters are going to be kind of sad. Not because I don't love these two, but because tragic stories are much more intersting. Which raises the question, is this story a tragedy?
> 
> ...
> 
> I'm not going to answer that right now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the song Her Diamons by Rob Thomas. I would recommend listening to this song when reading the chapter because it does add another element to the whole thing. 
> 
> Added to that, I know there will be the questions of why Pitch doesn't kill the Guardians. So I want to clarify: Pitch will not hurt the Guardians because it would be very painful if he did. Remember, he's part of the American pantheon now who believes in balance. He breaks that for personal gain and all the American spirits will put him in his place.
> 
> But enjoy.

A rare smile crossed Pitch's face when he felt the brush of a cool breeze against his cheek. A while ago that loving caress would have had him running in the opposite direction as quickly as he could. Now it signaled that his darling Jack was returning to his side, and there was nothing Pitch wanted more than that.

So it was with a light heart that Pitch waited for Jack to come flitting back down to him. Six months had passed since the first night he had taken Jack to bed. Six months of constant happiness with a partner who truly cared for him. Pitch didn't know how he had possibly gotten this lucky.

Which was why he was waiting for the other shoe to drop so to speak. The Boogeyman did not get happy endings to his story. There was no reason why Pitch should remain happy with Jack either. 

But in all honesty, Pitch was expecting the misfortune to fall on himself. One day he would descend into madness and strike Jack. Or the Fearlings would use his body to cut Jack open and leave only a lifeless corpse behind for Pitch to mourn. Those were what the Nightmare King feared late at night. It's important to recognize what it was Pitch feared because it made his absolute confusion at Jack's state apparent.

Instead of a happy smile and a sweet kiss, Pitch was met with watering blue eyes. Little drops of frozen ice dropped from Jack's eyes, landing like diamonds of ice upon the floor. Shuddering breaths shook Jack's breath unlike the normal laughs that filled the lair. Pitch was stunned into inaction by the sight Jack made as he landed on the floor.

Jack was sobbing. Not the delicate crying someone people did to express their sadness. No, this was chest heaving, heart breaking sobs that had Jack absently scrubbing at his eyes to brush the tears away. With a whimper Jack went running towards Pitch. Normally Jack weighed just about nothing (the wind carried the boy for spirits sake!) but the force of the impact sent Pitch stumbling back as Jack sobbed brokenly into his chest.

Pitch would never admit this to anyone, ever, but he did one thing as Jack clung to him. He panicked. What was he supposed to do to make Jack stop crying? He'd only ever made people cry before, never attempted to comfort them or dry their tears. And with Jack, Pitch wanted to wipe the ice crystals away and make Jack smile back at him again. 

Slowly, very slowly, Pitch wrapped his arms around Jack. He was terrified that if he pressed too hard Jack would shatter in his arms into a million pieces of delicate ice and then Pitch would be left alone. He pressed his cheek to Jack's head, curling his body around the smaller spirit and offering quiet comfort. 

Then, once his own panic receded when he didn't hurt Jack, the Guardian's fears began to bleed through. The always familiar undercurrent of fear that cake when anyone touched Jack, understandable after being alone for so long, was nearly covered up by the other fears. Focusing on these fears, Pitch tried to discern what was troubling his young lover. There was a sharp terror of being left alone that was incredibly strong. Pitch had honestly never felt Jack be this terrified of being abandoned before which was very alarming. On top of that was a continuous chant of 'they know they know they hate me they're disgusted nonononono' which seemed to play on loop as Jack tried to squirm even closer. 

Which led to the question of who Jack was afraid of. It was tied specifically to a fear about someone finding out something, and when Pitch dug deeper be realized it was their relationship. But who would Jack fear would find out about them? The American spirits all supported their union quite happily and Jack honestly didn't give a fuck about what other spirits felt.

Except for the Guardians. 

"Pitch, Pitch please," Jack's whimper dragged him away from his realization. He pulled back far enough to meet Jack's red eyes, gently pressing his grey palm to Jack's cool skin in a silent sign of comfort. Another whine left Jack as he clung to Pitch's wrist as if it were a salvation. "Tell me you don't hate me," Jack begged, voice breaking on the word hate, "I don't care if you lie...just tell me you'll never hate me. That you'll always be here!"

What had the Guardians done to make Jack this upset?

Smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring expression, Pitch pressed a gentle kiss to Jack's mouth. Carefully, so very carefully, he picked Jack up into his arms. Settling down in the throne, Pitch tucked Jack's limp body against his own allowing Jack to fist his hands tightly in Pitch's robe for comfort.

"I could never hate you Jack. You're the one thing that makes this miserable existence worthwhile," Pitch admitted gently. It felt wrong to lay himself so vulnerably, but it was worth it for the stunned expression on Jack's face at the admission. "Just like how you should know I'll never leave you alone. You're mine now Jack, and I will never let you go." Honestly, that sounded more like a threat than a deceleration of affection. But Pitch couldn't find it in himself to regret the words as Jack slumped against his chest in boneless relief with one last sob. 

"Now come delicia," Pitch murmured gently, absently brushing icy tears away, "Tell me what's the matter." 

The Guardian's were lucky that Jack was perched in his lap during the story. Had Jack not latched onto him the second they settled on Pitch's throne, he would have ripped their miserable bodies to pieces for making Jack cry. It had started off simply enough, Jack explained once Pitch had calmed him down. He'd gone to the latest Guardian meeting with reports about strange creatures stirring in the northern forests of Canada when the news had come out. But it hadn't been an information sharing session.

"It was an interrogation," Jack wailed and Pitch could only watch with horrified eyes as Jack broke back down into tears. "They...I just came through the door and everyone was yelling at me! I didn't even know why at first until Bunny said I was a traitor for being with you..."

That settled it. The pooka was going to be killed within the hour. But for now Pitch had a distressed lover to deal with before he plotted the rabbit's demise. "They shouldn't have yelled at you," was all Pitch could say. He couldn't say that Jack was better off without the fools because then Jack would be mad at him. Nor could he defend the Guardian's because the thought nearly made him sick. So instead Pitch pressed gentle kisses to Jack's hair and wrapped the boy safely in his arms. 

"I don't understand why they're mad at me," Jack whimpered and Pitch's heart ached for his naive little love. "I would never remiss on my duties. I'd rather die before that." And it was true. Pitch had learned first hand how seriously Jack took his duties and the level of expectation held for all American spirits.

"They'll remember that soon enough Jack. No one would ever imply that you don't care." Not if they wanted to live. Once Pitch was done with them, he'd toss the Guardian's miserable corpses to the other spirits he knew. Not even the moon would save them. 

It was obvious that Jack's distress had exhausted him. His teary eyes were beginning to grow heavy as he fought his emotional exhaustion. Pitch knew it was even harder for Jack to remain awake when safe in his lover's embrace. Rising from the throne, Pitch held Jack securely as he moved through the shadows and to their bedroom.

Their bedroom. It still sent a thrill of delight through his body every time Pitch said the phrase. He'd made sure the room would be comfortable for Jack, no matter what. Instead of a rickety bed, Pitch had replaced it with the large four poster bed where he had bedded Jack for the first time. Now it was piled with the softest pillows and quilts Pitch could find. Even the room itself was set to a much cooler temperature than the rest of his lair so Jack wouldn't overheat. 

Lovingly, Pitch lowered Jack onto the cool sheets. It was easy enough to get Jack under the sheets. By keeping one hand buried in Jack's hair, Pitch was able to use the shadows to tuck Jack into the bed and sooth him down to rest. The sight of the tear stained face caused two simultaneous reactions. Half of Pitch was heartbroken to see Jack so subdued, especially when the winter sprite was normally so cheerful. The other half was a snarling rage that was demanding that Pitch go out and make the fools who hurt Jack suffer. 

Lucky for the Guardian's, all of Pitch's attention was focused on Jack. He was a different man altogether as he gave Jack a goodnight kiss. "Rest love," Pitch soothed, "I'll watch over you."

The soft whine that left Jack was heartbreaking. But it was what Jack said as he drifted off to sleep that left Pitch feeling like he had been punched in the stomach. "Don't understand," Jack mumbled again, "How can loving you be bad?" 

Well. That...that changed everything. Reeling internally from Jack's revelation, Pitch could only stare in awe at Jack. Jack loved him. Him, the monster who had hurt the boy so badly when they first met. What had he done that led to him deserving Jack's attention.

He couldn't leave Jack alone when he woke. No, Jack deserved to wake up to comfort and Pitch would offer that without a second thought. Nothing would pull him away from Jack's side until a true smile spread across his face once more. But on the other hand, the Guardian's needed to pay. They hurt Jack. His Jack. Pitch had gone to war against them for less and really all that was saving them was the thought of having to face Jack's disappointment if Pitch picked a fight.

But they needed to suffer for their crime. 

An incredible idea slowly broke across Pitch's mind as he watched over Jack. Pitch wasn't alone in the world anymore. Yes he had Jack, but he also had more than that. He had the other spirits who lived in this land and they were all incredibly fond of Jack. Pitch was certain that when he told them how Jack had been treated by the Guardian's, they would also be clamoring for blood. That meant that Pitch could ask them to deal with the Guardian's while he remained behind to tend to Jack. It was perfect.

With a wave of his hand Pitch summoned his Nightmare to him. Dear Onyx, the only one who had remained by his side the entire time, appeared at his call. "Watch over Jack," Pitch ordered as he called the shadows to him, "I will be back soon. Do not let any nightmares touch his mind."

Fading into the shadows a bloodthirsty grin spread across Pitch's face. The Guardian's wouldn't know what hit them by the time Pitch finished his revenge. For Jack, Pitch would fight even the Moon himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end here. Just about 3 to 4 more chapters and then this portion of the story will be over. Following that, is King and Lionheart where their story continues. 
> 
> But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop. I plan on adding a third part of this series that is one shots about the characters. Tell me what you'd like to see, and I will put it in there. 
> 
> Enjoy, and please review.


	11. Chapter 11

The Lechugilla Cave was the perfect place for spirits of all kinds to meet. Hidden deep enough in the earth for the darker spirits to be safe, but filled with glittering crystals that made enough light for the lighter spirits to be comfortable. It was the meeting space for the North American spirits. Any and all of them would gather here for important events and occasions when they were needed.

And today they were gathered because Pitch Black had asked to speak to them. They had all come willingly. While they didn't know what Pitch needed to say, they all wanted to hear from him. Everyone settled down to listen to Pitch when he stepped out of the shadows. Isaiah shifted nervously at the rage shimmering in Pitch's eyes. The Horseman had heard about the Nightmare King's actions from Jack when the frost spirit had nervously mentioned his interest in Pitch. One of Jack's biggest hang ups had been Pitch's past actions but during their relationship Isaiah had only seen Pitch act as a gentleman. 

But this version of Pitch? Isaiah could see him destroying an entire galaxy. Now, Isaiah had met the Pitch who tried to topple the Guardians. 

"It seems that the Guardians have decided that Jack Frost is a traitor due to our relationship," Pitch informed everyone bluntly. The reaction from the other spirits was instantaneous. Yelling immediately broke out amongst them. Furious cries broke out from the younger spirits who were screaming for blood. The older spirits were not yelling, they just looked exasperated. European spirits with their stupid ideas that you had to be good or evil and stay that way. But that wouldn't explain why Pitch was so angry. 

The sound of umbrella on stone made silence fall. Dahlia rose from the stalagmite she had been sitting on. "There's more isn't there." Dahlia said. It was not a question, just a simple statement of fact. "What else did they say to him?"

"That I would use him before abandoning him so he was alone." Instead of yelling, there was only a steely silence as everyone listened to that. Dark expressions crossed everyone's face. It was one thing for another spirit to accuse someone of taking the wrong side. It was a completely different thing to take a shot at their relationship. And it was considered even more despicable to taunt a spirit like Jack who had suffered alone for so long with abandonment. 

"Well, that is certainly a problem," Uncle Sam's voice rose over the crowd of spirits. He stepped forward, nodding to Pitch. "Thank you for coming to us with this news. I do hope you understand that we can't let you take on the Guardians due to the whole conflict of interest thing. All I can ask is that you leave this matter to us." 

Pitch inclined his head. "I thank you. I would rather leave this matter in your capable hands so I could tend to Jack."

"We understand. And don't worry," a bloodthirsty smile crossed Sam's face, "I know exactly who to send to deal with this whole mess." 

~*~

The lights of New Orleans glittered off of the dream sand that was being sent out to the children below. On his dream cloud, Sandy watched the tendrils with a happy smile on his face. Everything was going well. It was even better now than it had been before when Pitch was continuously trying to turn dreams to nightmares. It seemed that Jack was changing Pitch for the better. 

A tug on one of the lines of dream sand caught Sandy's attention. This was not a child's dream of joy and light. No, this was a much older dream of an adult remembering a lover long gone by. With a small frown Sandy followed the line to see who would be calling for his attention. 

The person was a young woman who stood on the outskirts of the city. Sandy guessed she could be considered pretty by human standards of it wasn't for the frown on her face as he came to float in front of her.

With a scowl, Sandy gestured towards the dream sand demanding to know why she was going around messing with it. The woman inclined her head, holstering her umbrella on her shoulder. 

"Mr. Sandman, I would like a word," she said cooly. "I happen to be a good friend of Jack Frost."

Sandy brightened at that. He loved Jack! The sprite was so cheerful and bouncy. He always brought a smile to Sandy's face and was willing to help with the dreams. Any friend of Jack's was a friend of his.

"I would like to speak to you about the Guardian meeting you attended two days ago."

Sandy frowned again. He hadn't gone to any meeting and made sure she knew that. The woman's face softened a little at that.

"Well Mr. Sandman, that changes a lot. It seems your Guardian friends made quite a serious mistake," she said coldly. Suddenly, the pretty woman before him was gone. Instead there was a ghoulish figure in a tattered dress with a gaping neck wound where the blue ribbon had once been. Pure black eyes conveyed malice. "Let them know next time they plan on hurting Jack Frost, I will not be so lenient towards their actions."

Sandy could only stare in confusion as she disappeared into the shadows. What had that been about?

~*~

The Warren was silent as she walked inside of it. Calamity Jane, one of the native spirits in from the Southwest, had been volunteered to deal with the Easter Bunny. It had been easy enough for the spirit to agree. She was mighty fond of Jack Frost seeing how they had bonded over weathered phenomenon. And added to that, Jane wasn't too fond of the Easter Bunny. She really hadn't been for several decades, mostly because the rabbit continued to blame Jack for blizzards Jane created. 

Standing in the middle of the perfect spring weather, Jane smiled wickedly. "Wind," she called out, "Bring the rabbit to me." The Wind swirled around her, a war scream clear in the air, before it went blasting through the Warren in search of the Easter Bunny. The little walking eggs stumbled due to the force of the wind and a few tumbled to the ground.

It felt like the inside of a twister. The same exhilarating rush of power that made Jane's blood sing when she made a tornado or flood. Her blood was pounding with delight even as the Wind dragged the Easter Bunny kicking and screaming to her feet. It was mildly amusing for a second until Jane heard what he was cursing about. Once again, he blamed Jack for the Wind's actions. Well this was going to be a fun surprise.

"Jack ain't here long ears," Jane drawled out, hands on her hips as the smooth Texan drawl filled the air. It was almost funny how surprised the rabbit was to see her. 

"Who are you?" the rabbit demanded, getting onto his feet shakily. 

"Calamity Jane. Causation of freak storms and natural disasters," dark eyes wild with wind narrowed, "And I've got a bone to pick with you." 

The rabbit had the gall to look confused, "What did I do to you?" 

A wicked smirk pulled itself onto her face. Now, technically she was a nature spirit but what most people didn’t know about them was that they were mean. Nature didn’t care what happened to individuals, especially not the calamities. Even worse, she was a spirit of the Wild West and they were known for their brutality. Jane had been held in check by Jack for centuries, his pleas not to hurt anyone has softened her a little bit. But what little kindness she had for the Easter Bunny had disappeared with the winter of ‘68. 

“You, my fuzzy friend, have done quite a number,” Jane said with a cackle stalking closer to the rabbit as the beginnings of a forest fire spread out from her feet, “You’ve had the gall to say someone else is creating my magic. You’ve insulted my friends and our very way of life. But the real reason I’m here?” A burning hand, as hot as Death Valley, wrapped around a bandelier and dragged the rabbit to her eye level as Jane glared him down. “You hurt Jack Frost and I don’t think he’ll ever recover.”

The rabbit glared right back at her. At least he had spunk going for him. “I didn’t lay a hand on Frostbite!”

“You didn’t have to! Words hurt just as badly if not even worse!” Jane yelled, the winds picking her up her rage and kicking up a sizeable windstorm. “You don’t just throw around the word abandon to him! That’s just cruel to do to someone who had to wander for over 300 years without another person to talk to, to someone who was invisible and had people walk through him! What kind of so called Guardian...no, you know what? What kind of friend would do that to someone they care about!”

Jane took a step back as her rage fizzled out. The windstorm died away, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. The Easter Bunny was just staring at her with big stunned eyes and Jane knew some of her words had gotten into his head and would be there for quite some time. 

With one last rueful smile, Jane held up her hands helplessly. “Jack was so excited to find out he was a Guardian. To find somewhere he really belonged. We’re not the best at being a family, we’re too localized and too focused on just one thing. But after everything I’ve seen since he joined I can’t help but thinking Jack was better off alone,” Jane informed him bluntly calling the Wind to her, “You lot keep saying you're better than Pitch? Well then, start acting like it for once.” 

And with another gust of wind, Calamity Jane was gone leaving Bunny with a silent Warren and an awful lot to think about. 

~*~

Tooth Palace was a mighty fancy place. It sparkled with little tiny jewels and seemed to be floating in a fantasy world far away from the rest of reality. It was a far cry from home, that was for sure J.D. mused as he flew through the air in search of the Tooth Fairy. Her little tiny helpers went buzzing by him in droves, sparkling little hummingbirds that brought a smile to J.D.’s face. 

One of her little helpers actually came seeking him out. J.D. paused in shock for a moment before recognizing her by the tiny mole under her eye. “Miss Baby Tooth,” J.D. said happily, smiling non-threateningly at her, “Can you take me to your mother?” She chirped an agreement before leading him to one of the many pavilions. It was only after he landed that she flit away again, chirping a promise to bring Tooth to him. 

That was no problem for him. J.D. was quite happy just to look around the place. The little fairies seemed nervous at first as they went flying past him, but once they noticed that he seemed quite content to stay out of their way they became a little more bold. And after that they realized with delight that he was quite a nice man who was willing to chat with them.

That was when Tooth showed up actually. J.D. was enjoying his conversation with the little fairies about the best way to floss teeth when their leader came buzzing down to meet him with Baby Tooth at her side.

“Oh!” She said, pausing in shock as she took in his appearance. It was rude to stare but J.D. was quite used to it so he simply smiled back at her. He did look an awful fright after all. Jack had once described him as looking like a very happy gargoyle with goat hooves and honestly it was the best description J.D. had found so far. Still, for the new people he met it was always a bit of a surprise.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Tooth Fairy,” J.D. said offering her a slight bow, “I’m called the Jersey Devil, but please do call me J.D. All my friends do.”

That brought a hesitant smile to her face. “It’s a….pleasure to meet you J.D.,” she said, wings flicking nervously. “How did you know Baby Tooth exactly?”

J.D. could approve of her being nervous about him talking with one of her helpers. A good mother always looked after her kids. “Jack Frost introduced us a while back,” J.D. explained, and just as he expected she relaxed at the mention of Jack’s name. Most had that reaction. “He happens to be my neighbor ma’am.”

A frown appeared on Tooth’s face at that. “I thought the Headless Horseman was his neighbor?”

“He’s both of our neighbors which can be an awful challenge,” J.D. admitted which brought a quick smile and a laugh to Tooth. He waited until she was calm before continuing, “Actually ma’am, I was asked to come here to speak to you about Jack.”

“He isn’t in trouble is he?” Tooth asked worriedly, concerned for the newest Guardian.

“Not to my current knowledge, but with Jack who can say?” J.D. joked rather pleased to see her relaxing more. “No, I was asked to speak to you about your treatment during this last meeting.”

Straightening up, J.D. made sure Tooth was focused on him before continuing. “Now, I know you’re Guardian business is none of mine, but I do care an awful lot for Jack which is why I agreed to come. You see, you’re words about Pitch using him hurt Jack quite a bit,” J.D. informed her bluntly. He wasn’t usually so frank, but the situation did call for it. 

Tooth’s feathers puffed up in agitation. “Excuse me for trying to warn my friend that Pitch could hurt him,” she spat, every inch the warrior queen in that instant. 

But J.D. was used to great displays of temper and weathered the storm easily. “I have nothing against that. Really, you think I didn’t have reservations about the whole mess?” J.D. huffed out a laugh at the thought, “I was not pleased to learn that the Nightmare King was courting my friend. But Pitch has proved to be a good match, and I was thankfully proven wrong. Which is what I want to speak of.

“Jack is not a child. He grew up fast these past 300 years, and ma’am you do need to respect that. Treating him like he is some silly kid who has no idea what they’re doing isn’t going to help anything, it will only cause him to resent you,” J.D. informed her as gently as he could, “All I ask is that you respect his decisions because they are his.”

A watery smile was Tooth’s face. She had the same expression all mother’s wore when realizing their children were adults now, and J.D. was thankful to see it. It meant she heard him. “What should I do when...sorry, if, Pitch does break his heart?” Tooth asked softly as her fairies cooed in comfort and nuzzled close. 

‘Well ma’am, I would say the best answer to that would be to knock his teeth out,” J.D. said plainly getting another watery laugh from her. “Just cause we respect Jack’s decisions doesn’t mean we can’t be there if they fall apart around him. What else are friends and family for?”

That certainly got her smile back, and this one was even warmer than the one she had been wearing earlier. It was a pretty sight indeed. “Thank you for speaking with me,” Tooth said, flitting about, “And any friend of Jack’s is a friend of mine. If you would ever like to visit…”

“I’m afraid I don’t often leave New Jersey ma’am. I’m more of a local legend,” J.D. admitted ruefully, “But if you ever swing by my place, I’ll show you the sights.”

“I’d like that.”

~*~

North would not lie and say the Headless Horseman's arrival was a surprise. He had known the moment Jack had flown out of the Workshop with tears in his eyes that he would be hearing from one of the American spirits soon. North had actually expected Pitch to be the one who would appear, but Isaiah was not a stretch of the imagination. 

“Is there somewhere we can speak privately,” Isaiah asked softly, and it was his even tone of voice that was actually scary. 

“Of course, my office is this way,” North said leading Isaiah past the yetis and elves. The Revolutionary War spirit looked out of place surrounded by the wonders of Christmas. His dark presence would normally cause the Workshop’s inhabitants to run in fear the other way but Isaiah was a special case. North had made sure he would be welcome here, due to the fact that he was Jack’s best friend and all. But that did not mean that this visit would be good.

Shutting the door to his office, North gestured for Isaiah to take a chair as he sat down as well. For a long moment the two spirits simply regarded each other silently, neither willing to break the uneasy quiet. No doubt Isaiah was waiting for demands of why he was here, but North did not have the courage to ask. Not after the disaster that was the last meeting. 

With a tired sigh, Isaiah managed to break the quiet. “I’m here to speak to you about Jack,” he said simply. 

Ah, it was about the last meeting. North had been replaying the horrible scene over and over in his head, stuck on the image of Jack’s defeated form with tears in his eyes. “It was a disaster, one I will apologize for,” North said. He held up a hand when it looked like Isaiah was going to demand why he didn’t apologize now, “I would have gone to Jack immediately after if I could, but Christmas is tomorrow. It is reason, not excuse, and I will ask his forgiveness in taking so long to apologize as well.”

Isaiah snorted softly at that, and the wonder in North wondered how that worked with a pumpkin for a head. “That’s a better start than any other the other Guardians at least. But that’s not why I’m here,” Isaiah said simply, “I want to explain what it was you Guardians said that hurt him so badly. Did Jack ever tell you about his first family as a spirit?”

“He did.” And that had been another brutal day. It had started with North wanting to learn more about the boy he thought of as a son. Jack had been visiting and North was ecstatic to see the boy again. During one of the times when they had been carving ice together, it had just slipped out. The affectionate “Good job son” had brought everything to a halt and North had been helpless to take it back. 

And Jack...poor Jack had just stared at him with disbelieving eyes before the tears had come. At first, North thought it was because Jack did not want to be the child of someone who left him alone for over 300 year but then the heart breaking story had come out. 

How Jack had been adopted by Sedna and raised by the Native American spirits. Sitting in this very room, Jack had told North about his Uncle Coyote who taught him to be a trickster. Laughed about Uncle Raven’s sage advice, and how he raced the winds with the Deer Sisters and was doted on by Sky Mother. It sounded like a beautiful family, and North couldn’t see how Jack would want him as part of it. 

Until the very end. Jack had started to cry and without thinking North had pulled the boy into his lap for comfort. In the safe embrace, Jack had sobbed out the rest of the story. The White Man had come, and with his diseases and war killed off the native people due to his greed. Jack, who was tied to both native and white man belief, had not begun to face like his family had. They had been dying, Jack admitted brokenly, when Sky Mother had found a place where they would be safe. So Sedna had packed Jack up and led him to where they needed to go. But when Jack had tried to pass through with his family, the Moon had held him back and he could only watch helplessly as his family was forced to part with him. Leaving Jack alone, abandoned, in a cruel world that cared nothing for him.

“I already lost a mother,” Jack admitted through his sobs, “I can’t lose a father either!”

Somewhere during the hours spent comforting Jack and telling him he wouldn’t go anywhere, North had gained a son and Jack a father. The North had ruined it in one meeting.

“When Jack was told Pitch would abandon him, that’s what he thought about," Isaiah’s voice broke North out of the memory and returned him to the bleak present. “He remembered being alone, without anyone and scared. And that was a cruel thing to do to a boy who has been hurt too often.”

“You are correct.” There was really nothing else that needed to be said following that and North refused to defend himself when he had helped create this mess. 

And then Isaiah smiled and the somber mood was broken. “Now, lucky for you I know you’re good to Jackie. I know you’ll make things right, but I figured a little help to explain why they went so wrong would be good as well,” Isaiah said with a wry grin. “You Guardians have only had to deal with Jack what...twenty years now? While we’ve been dealing with him our entire lives. Think of us as the cheatsheets to figuring out his messed up head.”

North couldn’t keep himself from laughing. “Thank you my friend. I will be sure to stop by next time I have questions on how to deal with Jack.”

~*~

Hidden in darkness, one last spirit dealt with a Guardian. Pitch had returned to their bed before shooing Onyx off. Gently, he climbed into bed and curled around Jack’s sleeping form offering what little comfort he could.

Pitch could feel Jack’s terror at being left behind. How Jack despaired that one day Pitch would get tired of the winter mess up and simply leave, and then Jack would be left all alone with a broken heart. And quite honestly, the thought made Pitch furious. Jack deserved to be happy and smiling, not remembering the shattered remains of his family and praying that Pitch wouldn’t join them.

So since it was clear to Pitch that sleep wasn’t helping, he decided to instead wake Jack up. Gentle kisses drowned out the thoughts of abandonment as Jack woke with sleepy content in the safety of Pitch’s arms. And how strange was that. Thirty years ago, no one would ever have believed that Pitch would protect a Guardian. 

But how could he not when Jack looked up at him with sleepy adoration. There was no way to turn away this sprite who reached out to him so trustingly for comfort. What else could Pitch do but draw Jack in close and offer him comfort he needed.

“Pitch,” Jack whispered, voice rasping with need as he pressed up against the Nightmare King.

“I know delicia.” Because he did. He always knew what Jack was afraid of, and right now Jack was afraid of losing him. So Pitch would show Jack how loved he was, and pressed promises into skin white as snow that he would always be there. 

And if after those fear faded as Jack sighed out “I love you” when finding release? Well, Pitch counted that as a victory that not even the Man in the Moon could take from him.


	12. Love is Strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based off the second greatest love song of all time: Love is Strange from the TV show Galavant. It also has the greatest love song: Maybe You're Not the Worst Thing Ever. 
> 
> But when I heard Love is Strange, I thought of Jaack and Pitch immediatly.

Love, Jack mused as he curled up in Pitch's throne, was strange. Right now, Jack was happy to just sit on the throne and watch Pitch storm around the place muttering to himself about something. Jack had asked what the problem was a while ago but Pitch had just snarled before starting the whole stalking thing.

It was incredibly rude, Jack realized as he swung his legs absently. Which was really weird because every time Pitch was rude Jack had this swell of fondness. Like last week when Pitch had insulted Sandy again and Jack had just wanted to kiss him. And later that night Jack had pressed kisses to Pitch's bruises and promise him that Pitch is Jack's favorite and he wasn't going anywhere. 

Love also had the tendency to blurt out things that made you want to smack it in the face. Jack had lost count of the amount of snowballs he'd chucked at Pitch's head. It usually happened when Pitch decided to be a jerk. Like when Pitch got it in his head that he was going to help Jack get over his fear of drowning. And by help, Pitch decided to drag Jack underwater until he got over the fear. The whole mess had ended with Jack sobbing brokenly and punching Pitch repeatedly even as the Nightmare King tried to comfort him. It had taken two weeks of Pitch's constant grovelling before Jack forgave him. And that was just one instance. Pitch deserved to be punched often. 

Pitch is awkward and confusing, leaving Jack wondering what the fuck honestly happened far too often. The first knockout brawl between Pitch and the Guardians with the other American spirits was just the start of Pitch's awkward attempt to show Jack he cared. Because Pitch was terrible with feelings. And this was Jack saying that, and Jack knew he was horrible at the whole emotional thing. Like when the Guardian's had made Jack cry, so Pitch made them suffer and when Jack had asked him about it he had denied everything and refused to look Jack in the eyes for two day. Jack wondered why he was still with the awkward dork some days.

And then Pitch would grin. That special, stupid grin he got sometimes when he thought Jack wasn't looking, like Pitch was amazed that Jack was his. And Jack fell even harder in love. 

Love, Pitch mused as he stalked through his lair, was rather strange. It came with a sense of smugness that was present in every line of Jack's body as he stretched across Pitch's throne. It came through in that infuriating way Jack would smirk at him before spreading frost across the floor, or the way Jack would settle down in bed and stare coyly back at Pitch. 

Not only that, but love could be rather bossy. The constant demands of "stop it Pitch, leave the Guardian's alone" gave him the urge to drink. Or how Jack would tug on his sleeve and demand that Pitch come with him right now and come somewhere or do something. There were days when Pitch just wanted to cover Jack's mouth with his hand to stop the flow of demands that came on the days when Pitch just wanted to sit and brood. 

Not only that, but it messed with your head until you were a hopeless basket case. Pitch didn't know when he had stopped caring about killing the Guardian's. He didn't know when the loss of his power stopped affecting him, or when his entire universe came to revolve around Jack. All he knew was that it had happened and now Pitch couldn't stand the thought of living without Jack by his side. Pitch felt that he could survive anything as long as Jack was there.

Love is stubborn, Jack thought happily. Watching how Pitch refused to look at him so he could continue his brooding. 

It's insulting. The degrading call from Jack of "Pitch you idiot just come here" which was just not going to happen. Not when Jack refused to say anything to comfort the indignantly Pitch had to suffer. 

Love is obnoxious, refusing to accept the comfort it so obviously wanted and then getting mad if Jack left the room. Love was the worst. And no matter how hard Jack tried to push it away, he continued to fall headfirst. 

Love looked different in the morning. Like how Jack drooled in his sleep and that drool would cover the pillow in a layer of frost. Or how Pitch sprawled everywhere like that annoying cat who took up the entire bed somehow. Or how they would wake up to find that Pitch had wrapped himself around Jack like a clingy octopus, and how it took Jack a solid half hour to actually be coherent.

Love was dumb, and really strange. It was nothing like the fairy tales made it out to be. But somehow, it's oddity worked. As Pitch dropped to his knees and buried his face in Jack's lap, as Jack gently cradled him close, that was what made it love.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The last chapter in this story. Don't worry though, Jack and Pitch's epic love story continues in part two: King and Lionheart.

For the first time in years, Jack was happy. He couldn't keep the silly lovesick smile off of his face, resulting in light hearted teasing from his friends. Sure, most of the Guardians were still not pleased by his decision to be seeing the Nightmare King but Jack didn't care. Pitch was the best thing that had ever happened to him and Jack couldn't stop feeling thankful.

The pain of being unseen was gone when he was in Pitch's arms. All of Jack's fears of being abandoned were soothed. "They are still there," Pitch had explained one evening, "You'll never stop being afraid Jack, it is simply more manageable now."

And of course Pitch was right. Jack no longer felt like he was going to shake out of his skin. More children believed in him as the story of Jack Frost spread, and every night Jack knew Pitch would be waiting for him to return home. There was no pressure though. Pitch allowed Jack his freedom and Jack loved the shade even more for it.

Now though Jack was content to return home. He'd spent the day playing with children in Mongolia. The snowy steppes were an old friend of Jack's, so he enjoyed the land and the games before the kids had gone to bed. After the sun set Jack had started the trip home where he would be able to crawl into bed next to Pitch.

Maybe if he played his cards right Pitch would bed him again. Jack gasped at the thought, a frosty blush spreading over his cheeks. It was still weird to think about anyone in such an intimate way. Jack couldn't help himself from dreaming of his lover and an old shame would make him squirm with embarrassment during those fantasies. The joy of growing up during the late 1600's left Jack embarrassed when thinking about bodily pleasure even as the world moved on.

It didn't help that Pitch always seemed to know when Jack was thinking such things. The number of times Pitch would grin smugly or preen was maddening. Some days Jack didn't know why he loved Pitch.

The sound of crackling frost broke Jack out of his musings. He landed gently on his lake, delighting at patterns, and settled in to wait. Jack loved it when Pitch would appear out of the shadows for him, offering a gentlemanly arm to the sprite before they headed home. A shy smile spread across Jack's face as he continued to wait for Pitch, bashful eyes trained on the ice. He refused to look at the moon when waiting for Pitch, instead running his toe across the ice.

Bright blue eyes widened with delight as Pitch appeared from the shadows in front of him. A happy smile crossed the youthful face as Jack ran forward to throw himself into Pitch's strong arms. Pitch, for his part, looked besotted as he held on his hands for Jack to take. They were the only two people who existed in their world. No one else mattered when the other was present. So perhaps that was why they didn't notice the figure in green watching them.

The beginnings of bright laughter began to form in Jack's throat as he took Pitch's hands in his. But before it could be released, a tortured scream left instead. It felt like fire was burning him from the inside out. Muscles were tearing even as his bones melted away, leaving Jack slumped over in agony on his knees. The world was gone, all that existed was the green fire that scorched him deep inside.

Eventually Jack fell into darkness to escape the burning pain deep inside of him. If he had stayed conscious any longer, Jack would have been driven insane. After all the mind searing pain the darkness was a comforting balm.

~*~

No. No, his Jack couldn't be dead. Not his darling Jack who lit up the darkness. Who brought laughter and love into Pitch's life and dragged the Nightmare King kicking and screaming back into the world. His precious Jack who blushed so prettily and needed constant hugs and caresses to prove that he did exist and was seen.

Jack, who loved Pitch so much it terrified the boy so Pitch always knew. Who was now dead.

The Nightmare King sunk to the ground in defeat staring at the spot where Jack had been just seconds before. Another second and Jack would have been safe and sound in Pitch's arms. Instead he had been burned to cinders before Pitch's very eyes. The sight of Jack's skin melting off was more horrific than many of the nightmares the Fearlings tried to give him. No matter how long he lived, Pitch knew he would never forget watching the horrible death his love had suffered.

Pitch didn't know how long he spent slumped on the ground near where Jack had been standing. He didn't care if anyone came for him, or if the person who killed Jack tried to kill him as well. Pitch would gladly welcome death if it brought him back to Jack. He didn't move even when the moonbeams began to shine on him. Normally Pitch tried to avoid the moonbeams because they hurt but right now he welcomed the pain.

Let the Man in the Moon's light finally kill him. Tear the very flesh from his body and leave him an empty husk that matched the world which was now empty without Jack in it. But the Man in the Moon was interested in killing Pitch. Instead the moonbeams delivered a very important message to Pitch.

_Jack Frost..alive...Edge of World...Beware the Green Lady..._

The moonbeams retreated after delivering their message leaving Pitch alone once more. But instead of the pit of despair that had been inside of him, now a boiling rage had been lit. The Green Lady had hurt his Jack, taking the boy away to the most dangerous place in the world. Pitch was going to find her and rip her throat out.

But first there was something he had to do. Shutting his eyes, Pitch reached out to find Jack's mind against the millions of others out there. It was easier now that Pitch knew to focus on the Edge of the World but it still took a fair bit of time. A sob of relief left him as he found Jack's dreaming mind somewhere in the Edge. He couldn't help himself from diving into Jack's sleeping mind, needing to see Jack was alive and whole....

_**Drip** _

_It was dark and cold, the perfect combination in Pitch's opinion. Even he, a creature who lived in darkness, couldn't see much. This darkness as empty and stretched on forever in all directions. Jack's dreams and nightmares were never like this, they were filled with bright colors and sound. Not this void._

_**Drip**._

_The only light came from in front. Pale blues and snowy whites were soothing to Pitch's distressed mind. Even better was the sight of familiar blue eyes that Pitch could watch for hours. He couldn't keep himself from moving forward, a hand outstretched for his darling love to take._

_**Drip**._

_"Jack," Pitch breathed, finding his salvation in the sight of Jack alive and hale. "Delicia, you're alive..."_

_**Drip** _

_Wide blue eyes landed on Pitch, wonder in them. But no love. And then Jack whispered the three words the broke Pitch's ancient heart in two. "Who are you?" was the innocent question and for the first time in ages Pitch felt tears of grief well up in his eyes._

_Jack may still be alive, but he was no longer Pitch's._

_**Drip** _

_**Drip** _

_**Drip** _


End file.
